1 How shall I pour out my complaint,
Or tell the Lord my sore distress?
Yet he espies my every want,
My weakness, sin, and foolishness.

2 Stupid, secure, and hard, and blind,
Withered and dead, and rooted up;
To endless death I seem consigned;
So destitute of cheering hope.

3 Uneasy when I feel my load;
Uneasy when I feel it not;
Dissatisfied for want of God,
Though oft of him I’ve not a thought.

4 I cannot frame a good desire,
If all the world to me was given;
I cannot to a wish aspire,
If one good wish would purchase heaven.

5 Sometimes I follow after God;
Sometimes I carelessly retreat;
For mercy now I cry aloud,
And now in stubborn silence sit.

6 O Prince of life, with power descend;
Thy blood apply, my conscience clear;
Then shall this legal conflict end,
And perfect love cast out sad fear.