On this, through all, my hope shall rest,
My Saviour blest!
Thou too with grief hast been opprest.
My contrite tears Thou tellest all,
By Thee with God they’re pleaded;
And though in torrents fast they fall,
None fall by Thee unheeded:
Oft as my tears thy throne assail,
So oft with Thee they still prevail,
And Thou a piteous eye dost lend,