How long, O Lord, shall I forgotten be?
What? ever?
How long wilt thou thy hidden face from me
Dissever?
How long shall I consult with carefull sprite
In anguish?
How long shall I with foes triumphant might
Thus languish?
Behold me, Lord, let to thy hearing creep
My crying;
Nay, give me eyes and light, lest that I sleep
In dying;
Lest my foe brag, that in my ruin he
Prevailed;
And at my fall they joy that, troublous, me
Assailed.
No! no! I trust on thee, and joy in thy
Great pity:
Still, therefore, of thy graces shall be my
Song's ditty.
Mary Herbert
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