Classic Poem

Out of the horrors of the deep,
Where fear and sorrow never sleep,
To Thee my cries
In sighs arise:
Lord, from despair Thy servant keep:
O lend a gracious ear,
And my petitions hear.

For if Thou should'st our sins observe,
And punish us as we deserve,
Not one of all
But then must fall,
Since all from their obedience swerve:
Yet art not Thou severe,
That we Thy Name might fear.

Thy mercies our misdeeds transcend:
My hopes upon Thy truth depend:
Disconsolate
On Thee I wait;
As weary sentinels attend
The cheerful morn's uprise
With long-expecting eyes.

O you that are of Jacob's race,
In Him your hopes and comforts place;
His praises sing,
The living Spring
Of mercy and redundant grace;
For He will Israel
Redeem from sin and hell.