To God my earnest voice I raise,
To God my voice imploring prays;
Before his face my grief I show
And tell my trouble and my woe.
When gloom and sorrow compass me,
The path I take is known to thee,
And all the toils that foes do lay
To snare thy servant in his way.
O Lord, my Saviour, now to thee,
Without a hope besides, I flee,
To thee, my shelter from the strife,
My portion in the land of life.
Be thou my help when troubles throng,
For I am weak and foes are strong;
My captive soul from prison bring,
And thankful praises I will sing.