GOD counts the sorrows of His saints,

GOD counts the sorrows of His saints, Their groans affect His ears; Thou hast a book for my complaints, A bottle for my tears.

When to Thy throne I raise my cry, The wicked fear and flee: So swift is prayer to reach the sky; So near is God to me.

In Thee, most holy, just and true, I have reposed my trust; Nor will I fear what man can do, The offspring of the dust.

Thy solemn vows are on me, Lord; Thou shalt receive my praise: I'll sing, How faithful is Thy word; How righteous all Thy ways!

Thou hast secured my soul from death; Oh set Thy prisoner free That heart and hand, and life and breath, May be employ'd for Thee.