Psalm LXXXVIII. Six Line-L. Met. On the death of friends

O GOD of my salvation, hear My nightly groans, my daily prayer, That still employ my wasting breath; My soul, declining to the grave, Implores thy sovreign power to save, From dark despair and gloomy death,

Thy wrath lies heavy on my soul, And waves of sorrow o'er me roll, Whilst dust and silence spread the gloom; My friends, belov'd in happier days, The dear companions of my ways, Descend around me to the tomb.

As lost in lonely grief I tread The silent mansions of the dead, Or to some throng'd assembly go; Thro' all alike, I rove alone, Forgotten here, and there unknown, The change renews my piercing woe.

Wilt thou neglect my mournful call? Or who shall profit by my fall? When life departs and love expires; Can dust and darkness praise the Lord, Or wake and brighten at his word, To join the high angelic choirs?

My friends are gone, my comforts fled, The sad remembrance of the dead Recals my wandering thoughts to mourn; But thro' each melancholy day, I call on thee and still will pray, Imploring still thy kind return.