Remember he will not despise,
Your humble wailings—mournful cries.
Afflictions are the tunnels drear,
Through which we go while travelling here;
But these will all be shortly past,
And heaven appear in view at last.
To cheer the dark and gloomy night,
We’ve lamps which give a brilliant light,
And while we urge our course along,
The cross of Christ is all our song.