1 Dear Refuge of my weary soul,
On Thee, when sorrows rise;
On Thee, when waves of trouble roll,
My fainting hope relies.

2 To Thee I tell each rising grief,
For Thou alone canst heal;
Thy word can bring a sweet relief,
For every pain I feel.

3 Hast Thou not bid me seek Thy face?
And shall I seek in vain?
And can the ear of sovereign grace
Be deaf when I complain?

4 No, still the ear of sovereign grace
Attends the mourner's prayer:
O may I ever find access,
To breathe my sorrows there!