Classic Poem

I CRIED unto the Lord most just,
Most merciful, in prayer;
I cried unto Him from the dust,
I told Him my despair.

When sunk my soul within me, — then
Thou knew'st the path I chose;
Unharm'd I pass'd the spoiler's den,
I walk'd through ambush'd foes.

I look'd for friends, — there was not one
In sorrow to condole;
I look'd for refuge, — there was none;
None cared for my soul.

I cried unto the Lord; — I said, —
Thou art my refuge; Thou,
My portion; — hasten to mine aid;
Hear and deliver now .

Now, from the dungeon, from the grave,
Exalt thy suppliant's head;
Thy voice is freedom to the slave,
Revival to the dead.