Classic Poem

From Sorrow's depths to thee I cry,
O thou! who knowest my inmost fear,
The unuttered prayer, the half-breathed sigh,
Still let it reach thy pitying ear.

Unworthy as I am, from thee
My soul with hope will mercy claim,
For thou hast made us; thou canst see
With mercy, crimes which man would blame.

If thou shouldst mark with eye severe,
Thy children's faults, ah! who could stand?
Ah! who with boldness could appear,
Or bless his God's creating hand?

But mercy ever dwells with thee,
Still to forgiveness thou art prone!
That all with fearful hope may see
Their only refuge is thy throne.

On thee with humble confidence,
My suffering soul for peace shall wait,
Thy love will comfort speak, and hence
Thy word my hopes shall animate.

The languid sufferer doomed to weep
While painful nights their course delay,
Hopeless of sweet refreshing sleep
Not more desires the morning ray.

Than this poor harassed troubled soul
Hath watched for inly-whispered peace,
Till mercy shall its fears controul,
And bid its anxious sorrows cease.

And still at mercy's sacred seat
Let all thy children, Lord! be found;
For love is there, and at thy feet
Consoling hopes, and joys abound.