And O, I cried, can this be prayer
Whose plaints the steadfast mountains move?
Can this be heaven's prevailing care?
And, O my God, is this thy love?
But soon I found that sorrow, worn
As duty's garment, strength supplies,
And out of darkness meekly borne
Unto the righteous light doth rise.
And soon I found that fears which stirred
My startled soul God's will to do,