I have deserv'd it, cease t' oppose
The Lord's will, shall I never?
Thou bitter cup, thou heavy cross,
Come hither to me ever!
From pain all free
May never be
He 'gainst the Lord who fighteth,
As I each day,
Who trod the way
Wherein the world delighteth.

I'll bear the chastisement of God,
A patient soul possessing,
For born in sin, sin's path I trod,
Aye ventur'd on transgressing,
That pleasures vain
I might attain,
In wantonness time wasting,
The gracious word
Of God the Lord,
As I ought, never tasting.

The road of God's commandments good
I often have forsaken,
And on the way that leads from God
Am therefore overtaken
By grief and smart,
That pierce my heart;
God's hand thus am I feeling,
Who 'fore His throne
To each his own
Awards, in justice dealing.

For just and true is God above,
We fail His goodness telling,
A mother's truth, a father's love
Alike in him are dwelling.
God's wrath, I ween,
As oft hath been
Ours, is not unrelenting.
Men steel their heart,
Refuse t' impart
Grace e'en to the repenting.

In sooth 'tis not the mind of God,
His anger ever endeth,
Return we, He removes the rod,
And to the weary sendeth
A sweet release,
To mark doth cease,
And visit our transgressing;
His wrath He turns,
And tow'rd us yearns,
Gives after cursing blessing.

And so the Lord will deal with me,
And every one behold it,
And vindicate the right will He,
My cause, He will uphold it.
Thy face so bright,
Lord! to the light,
From deepest pit will raise me,
That ever I
May heartily
Thy truth exalt, and praise Thee.

Rejoice not o'er me, then, my foes,
I lie not here for ever,
My God will come ere ye suppose,
And speedily deliver.
His holy hand
Will make me stand,
Firm and secure for ever;
Good times to me
And joy will He
Give after stormy weather.

I am in need, yet scarce can speak
Of real need and sorrow;
When God my Light is, day must break
And bring a glorious morrow,
E'en in the night,
While yet the might
Of darkness much increaseth,
And when this Light
Dawns on my sight,
Whate'er oppresses ceaseth.

The time will come, e'en now 'tis near,
When I shall sing salvation,
When he who lov'd to mock and jeer
At me in tribulation,
And bid me tell
Where God doth dwell,
Shall from God's face be driven
With head cast down;
To me a crown
Of honour shall be given!