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“I go mourning all the day long.” Ps. 38. 6

R. Burnham   C.M.

1
Lord, while I wander here below
What ills my soul annoy!
For ’tis of thee I little know,
And ah! still less enjoy.

2
I often hear the word of life,
And all seems death within;
Yet feel a strange mysterious strife
Between my soul and sin.

3
I read the truth and think it o’er,
And long to know thy will;
And wrestle for thy Spirit’s power;
But ah! how barren still!

4
But shall I from thy throne retreat,
And hopeless, yield to fear?
No, in the strength of God I’d wait,
Till mercy shall appear.

5
Then still, my soul, fresh cries lift up;
Stand firm in Zion’s ways;
Till God at length shall crown thy hope,
And fill thee with his praise.