Dear refuge of my weary soul, on Thee when sorrows rise,
On Thee when waves of troubles roll, my fainting hope relies.
To Thee I tell each rising grief, for Thou alone can heal.
Thy word can bring a sweet relief to every pain I feel.

But oh, when gloomy doubts prevail, I fear to call Thee mine
The streams of comfort seem to fail and all my hopes decline.
Yet Gracious God, where shall I flee?  Thou art my only trust.
And still my soul would cling to thee, though prostrate in the dust.

Hast Thou not bid me seek Thy face, and can I seek in vain?
Or can the ear of Sovereign Grace be deaf when I complain?
No, still the ear of Sovereign Grace attends the mourner’s prayer.
May I ever find access to breathe my sorrows there.