I call on God, Who leadeth me aright,
The morning cometh—thus the watchman said—
Although it now be night.
Thy righteousness is like Mount Tabor vast,
Oh! let my sins be wholly put to flight,
Be they as yesterday, forever past,
And as a watch at night.
The peaceful season of my prayers is o'er,
Would that again had rest my soul contrite,
Weary am I of groaning evermore,