Fillmore, 88.88.88. [F]
| 1. |
1 My God, my God, O why have You
In my distress forsaken me?
O why so far from giving help,
And from my agonizing plea?
2 All day, my God, I cry in vain;
By night, yet no relief I gain.
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| 2. |
3 But still You are the Holy One;
In Israel's praise You dwelling have.
4 Our fathers put their trust in You;
They trusted, and You rescue gave.
5 To You they cried; deliv'rance came;
They trusted and were free from shame.
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| 3. |
6 Reproached of men, by all despised,
A worm and not a man am I;
7 All they that seem me laugh in scorn;
They shake their heads and taunting cry,
8 "He trusts the LORD! Let Him defend
And save him, if He is his friend!"
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| 4. |
9 You took me safely from the womb;
Gave faith when on my mother's breast;
10 From birth dependent on Your care.
You are my God; In You I rest.
11 Be not far off, for grief is nigh;
There's none on whom I can rely.
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