Melancholy assaulting, and hope prevailing. <br /> <br />To God I cried with mournful voice, <br />I sought his gracious ear, <br />In the sad day when troubles rose, <br />And filled the night with fear. <br /> <br />Sad were my days, and dark my nights, <br />My soul refused relief; <br />I thought on God the just and wise, <br />But thoughts increased my grief. <br /> <br />Still I complained, and still oppressed, <br />My heart began to break; <br />My God, thy wrath forbade my rest, <br />And kept my eyes awake. <br /> <br />My overwhelming sorrows grew, <br />Till I could speak no more; <br />Then I within myself withdrew, <br />And called thy judgments o'er. <br /> <br />I called back years and ancient times <br />When I beheld thy face; <br />My spirit searched for secret crimes <br />That might withhold thy grace. <br /> <br />I called thy mercies to my mind <br />Which I enjoyed before; <br />And will the Lord no more be kind? <br />His face appear no more? <br /> <br />Will he for ever cast me off? <br />His promise ever fail? <br />Has he forgot his tender love? <br />Shall anger still prevail? <br /> <br />But I forbid this hopeless thought; <br />This dark, despairing frame, <br />Rememb'ring what thy hand hath wrought; <br />Thy hand is still the same. <br /> <br />I'll think again of all thy ways, <br />And talk thy wonders o'er; <br />Thy wonders of recovering grace, <br />When flesh could hope no more. <br /> <br />Grace dwells with justice on the throne; <br />And men that love thy word <br />Have in thy sanctuary known <br />The counsels of the Lord.<br /><br />Isaac Watts<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/psalm-77-part-1/
