Friend Of The Friendless

Lord of my life, to thee I call; Afflicted, at thy feet I fall; When the great trouble floods prevail, Leave not my troubled heart to fail.

Friend of the friendless and the faint, Where should I lodge my deep complaint? Where, but with thee, whose open door Invites the helpless and the poor?

Did ever mourner plead with thee, And thou refuse that mourner' s plea? Does not the promise still remain,ine That none shall seek thy face in vain?

Poor though I be, despised, forgot, Yet Christ, my Lord, forgets me not; His promises I daily plead, And he supplies my ev' ry need.