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Hymn/Song Information

When I pour out my soul in prayer do

When I pour out my soul in prayer,
do thou, O Lord, attend;
To thy eternal throne of grace
let my sad cry ascend.

O hide not thou thy glorious face
in times of deep distress;
Incline thine ear, and, when I call,
my sorrows soon redress.

Each cloudy portion of my life
like scattered smoke expires;
My shriveled bones are like a hearth
parched with continual fires.

My heart, like grass that feels the blast
of some infectious wind,
Does languish so with grief, that scarce
needful food I mind.

By reason of my sad estate
I spend my breath in groans;
My flesh is worn away, my skin
scarce hides my starting bones.

I'm like a pelican become,
that does in deserts mourn;
Or like an owl, that sits all day
on barren trees forlorn.

In watchings or in restless dreams
the night by me is spent,
As by those solitary birds
that lonesome roofs frequent.

All day by railing foes I'm made
the subject of their scorn;
Who all, possessed with furious rage,
have my destruction sworn.

When grov'ling on the ground I lie,
oppressed with grief and fears,
My bread is strewed with ashes o'er,
my drink is mixed with tears.

Because on me with double weight
thy heavy wrath doth lie;
For thou, to make my fall more great,
didst lift me up on high.

My days, just hastening, to their end,
are like an evening shade;
My beauty does, like withered grass,
with waning luster fade.

But thy eternal state, O Lord,
no length of time shall waste;
The memory of thy wondrous works
from age to age shall last.

Thou shalt arise, and Sion view
with an unclouded face;
For now her time is come, thy own
appointed day of grace.

Her scattered ruins by thy saints
with pity are surveyed;
They grieve to see her lofty spires
in dust and rubbish laid.

The Name and glory of the Lord
all heathen kings shall fear;
When he shall Sion build again,
and in full state appear.

When he regards the poor's request,
nor slights their earnest pray'r;
Our sons, for this recorded grace,
shall his just praise declare.

For God, from his abode on high,
his gracious beams displayed:
The Lord from heav'n, his lofty throne,
has all the earth surveyed.

He listened to the captives' moans,
he heard their mournful cry,
And freed by his resistless pow'r
the wretches doomed to die.

That they in Zion, where he dwells,
might celebrate his fame,
And through the holy city sing
loud praises to his Name.

When all the tribes assembling there
their solemn vows address,
And neighb'ring lands, with glad consent,
the Lord their God confess.

But, ere my race is run, my strength
through his fierce wrath decays;
He has, when all my wishes bloomed,
cut short my hopeful days.

Lord, end not thou my life, said I,
when half is scarcely past:
Thy years, from worldly changes free,
to endless ages last.

The strong foundations of the earth
of old by thee were laid;
Thy hands the beauteous arch of heav'n
with wondrous skill have made.

Whilst thou for ever shall endure,
they soon shall pass away;
And, like a garment often worn,
shall tarnish and decay.

Like that, when thou ordain'st their change,
to thy command they bend:
But thou continu'st still the same,
nor have thy years an end.

Thou to the children of thy saints
shall lasting quiet give;
Whose happy race, securely fixed,
shall in thy presence live.

---Alternative verses---

When I pour out my soul in prayer,
do thou, O God, attend;
To thy eternal throne of grace
O let my cry ascend.

Hide not, O Lord, thy glorious face
in times of deep distress;
Incline thine ear, and, when I call,
my sorrows soon redress.

marker 99
Meter: 8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
      Dates: 1696
      Bible Refs: Ps 102;
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