1 O thou, the wretched's sure retreat,
Who dost their cares controul,
And with the cheerful smile of peace
Revive the fainting soul!

2 Did ever thy relenting ear
The humble plea disdain?
Or when did plaintive misery sigh,
Or supplicate, in vain?

3 Whoe'er to thee for pardon sue
In penitential tears,
Thy goodness calms their restless doubts,
And dissipates their fears.

4 Now life from thy refreshing grace,
Their sinking hearts receive;
Thy gentlest, best-lov'd attribute,
To pity and forgive.

5 From that blest source propitious hope
Appears serenely bright,
And sheds her soft diffusive beam
O'er sorrow's dismal night.

6 Our griefs confess her vital power,
And bless the friendly ray,
Which ushers in the smiling morn
Of everlasting day.