When dark, foreboding fears distress the soul,
And swell the bosom with despairing grief,
Remorse and doubt, and gloomy unbelief,
And wicked promptings which we can't control,
O! how we long to find some sweet relief-
Some friend to lead us to a throne of grace,
Where we in Christ may find a hiding-place
From all the sorrows which surround our path,
The dread of hell and God's avenging wrath,
And get that sweet serenity of mind,
Which we have lost and long so much to find-
That bliss we knew ere yet to reason blind-
A gleam of light again to point the way
In which we trod before we went astray.