Berne

1. Hear me, O Lord! Nor hide thy face;
    But answer lest I die;
Has Thou not built a throne of grace,
    To hear when sinners cry?
My days are wasted like the smoke,
    Dissolving in the air;
My strength is dried, my heart is broke,
    And sinking in despair.

2. My spirit flags like with’ring grass,
    Burnt with excessive heat;
In secret groans my minutes pass,
    And I forget to eat.
As on some lonely building’s top
    The sparrow tells her moan,
Far from the tents of joy and hope,
    I sit and grieve alone.