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PSALM LXXVII.
TO God I cried with humble voice,
To Him my inmost feelings poured:
Yea, when my soul refused to hear
The voice of peace, I sought the Lord.
I thought of Him, but still was sad,
My spirit sank o'erwhelmed with woe;
For Thou dost hold my waking eyes,
And grief forbids my words to flow.

I call to mind the days of old,
The years for ever passed away,
And then I commune with my heart,
And search my spirit's inmost way.
Will God for ever cast nus off'?
Will He return in love no more?
Can mercy ne'er be found again?
And is His gracious promise o'er?

Hath God forgotten all His love?
In anger must His mercy fly?
Ah no! I humbly bow and say,
It is mine own infirmity.