Whom, in the darkness, do I seek,
O God, but thee?
2 And if there weigh upon my breast,
Vague memories of the day foregone,
Scarce knowing why, I fly to thee,
And lay them down.
3 Or, if it be the gloom that comes,
In token of impending ill,
My bosom heeds not what it is,
Since ’tis thy will.