To thee, for succour, in distress

Verse 1

To thee, for succor, in distress, I lift my longing eyes; Oh! thou omnipotent, supreme! Who dwell'st above the skies.

Verse 2

As servants, eye their master's hand, Their mistresses; the maids; So to the Lord, our God, we look, For his reviving aids.

Verse 3

Have mercy upon us, O Lord, Oh! pity to us show; For loaded with most base contempt, We feel the depth of woe.

Verse 4

From those that live at ease, our soul Is greatly filled with scorn; And the vile insult of the proud, We heavily have borne.