1 O hear me, Lord! on thee I call,
And prostrate at thy footstool fall;
Propitious in my cause appear,
And bow to my request thine ear.

2 Look down, my only hope! look down;
Behold me, but without a frown:
And ne'er to my desiring eye
Thy presence, heav'nly Lord! deny,

3 O let me, on thy aid reclin'd,
Thee still my great salvation find;
Nor leave me, helpless and forlorn,
The absence of thy grace to mourn.

4 Though, doom'd the orphan's lot to bear,
No father's kind concern I share,
Nor o'er me wakes a mother's eye
My wants attentive to supply:—

5 Adopted by thy care, in thee
The Parent and the Friend I see;
And, nourish'd by thy fost'ring hand,
Within thy courts secure I stand.