1 God of my life, O Lord most high,
To thee by day and night I cry;
Vouchsafe my mournful voice to hear,
To my distress incline Thine ear.

2 Like those whose strength and hopes are fled,
They number me among the dead;
Like those who, shrouded in the grave,
From thee no more remembrance have.

3 Wilt Thou by miracle revive
The dead, whom Thou forsook'st alive?
Shall the mute grave thy love confess,
A mouldering tomb Thy faithfulness?

4 To Thee, O Lord, I cry forlorn,
My prayer prevents the early morn:
Why hast Thou, Lord, my soul forsook,
Nor once vouchsafed a gracious look?

5 Companions dear and friends beloved
Far from my sight thou hast removed:
God of my life, O Lord most high,
Vouchsafe to hear my mournful cry!