Dear Refuge Of My Weary Soul,
On Thee, When Sorrows Rise.
On Thee, When Waves Of Trouble Roll,
My Fainting Hope Relies.

To Thee I Tell Each Rising Grief,
For Thou Alone Canst Heal;
Thy Word Can Bring A Sweet Relief
For Every Pain I Feel.

But Oh, When Gloomy Doubts Prevail,
I Fear To Call Thee Mine;
The Springs Of Comfort Seem To Fail,
And All My Hopes Decline.

Yet, Gracious God, Where Shall I Flee?
Thou Art My Only Trust;
And Still My Soul Would Cleave To Thee,
Though Prostrate In The Dust.

Thy Mercy-Seat Is Open Still,
Here Let My Soul Retreat;
With Humble Hope Attend Thy Will,
And Wait Beneath Thy Feet.