1 O that I had a bosom friend,
To tell my secrets to,
On whose advice I might depend
In every thing I do.

2 How do I wander up and down,
And no one pities me!
I seem a stranger quite unknown,
A son of misery!

3 None lends an ear to my complaint,
Nor minds my cries or tears:
None comes to cheer me tho' I faint,
Nor my vast burden bears.

4 Whilst others live in mirth and ease
And feel no want or woe,
Thro' this waste howling wilderness,
I full of sorrows go.

5 O faithless soul to reason thus,
And murmur without end?
Did Christ expire upon the cross
And is he not thy friend?

6 Why dost thou envy carnal men,
And think their state so blest?
How great salvation hast thou seen,
And Jesus is thy rest!

7 What can this lower world afford
Compar'd with gospel grace?
Thy happiness is in the Lord,
And thou shalt see his face!

8 Can present grief be counted great
Compar'd with future woes?
Will transient pleasures seem so sweet
Compar'd with endless joys?

9 How soon will God withdraw the scene,
And burn the world he made!
Then woe to carnal sinful men!
My soul lift up thy head.

10 The Saviour is thy real friend,
Constant and true and good;
He will be with thee to the end,
And bring thee safe to God.

11 Then why my soul art thou so sad?
When will thy sighs be o'er?
Rejoice in Jesus and be glad
Rejoice for evermore.