Psalm XXX. Common Metre. Prayer heard

Beneath my God's protecting arm. How did my soul rejoice! And fondly hop'd no future harm Would interrupt my joys.

Lord, 'twas thy favour fix'd my rest; Thy shining face withdrew, Then troubles fill'd my anxious breast, And pain'd my soul anew.

Again to thee, O gracious God, I rais'd my mournful eyes; To thee I spread my woes abroad, With supplicating cries.

What glory can my death afford? In the dark grave confin'd? Shall senseless dust adore the Lord, Or call thy truth to mind?

Hear, O my God, in mercy hear, Attend my plaintive cry; Be thou my gracious helper near, And bid my sorrows fly.

Again, I hear the voice divine; New joys exulting bound; My robes of mourning I resign, And gladness girds me round.

Then let my utmost glory be To raise thy honours high, Nor let my gratitude to thee In guilty silence die.

To thee, my gracious God, I raise My thankful heart and tongue; O be thy goodness and thy praise, My everlasting song.