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Kidung Jemaat

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Hymns

Psalms 39:1

[Psa 39:1] With Firm Resolve I Held My Peace Hover on the song's title to listen the music

With firm resolve I held my peace
And spake not either bad or good,
Lest I should utter sinful thoughts
While wicked men before me stood.

While I was dumb my grief was stirred,
My heart grew hot with thought suppressed;
The while I mused the fire increased,
Then to the Lord I made request.

Make me, O Lord, to know my end,
Teach me the measure of my days,
That I may know how frail I am
And turn from pride and sinful ways.

My time is nothing in Thy sight,
Behold, my days are but a span;
Yea, truly, at his best estate,
A breath, a fleeting breath, is man.

Man’s life is passed in vain desire
If troubled years be spent for gain;
He knows not whose his wealth shall be,
And all his toil is but in vain.

And now, O Lord, what wait I for?
I have no hope except in Thee;
Let not ungodly men reproach,
From all transgressions set me free.

Because Thou didst it I was dumb,
I spoke no word of rash complaint;
Remove Thy stroke away from me,
Beneath Thy chastisement I faint.

When Thou for his iniquity
Rebukest and correctest man,
His beauty is consumed away;
How weak his strength, how vain his plan.

Lord, hear my prayer, regard my cry;
I weep; be Thou my Comforter.
I am a stranger here below,
A pilgrim as my fathers were.

O spare me, Lord, avert Thy wrath,
Deal gently with me, I implore,
That I may yet recover strength
Ere I go hence and be no more.

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source: Cyberhymnal

Psalms 77:1

[Psa 77:1] To God I Cried With Mournful Voice Hover on the song's title to listen the music

To God I cried with mournful voice,
I sought His gracious ear,
In the sad day when troubles rose,
And filled the night with fear.

Sad were my days, and dark my nights,
My soul refused relief;
I thought on God the just and wise,
But thoughts increased my grief.

Still I complained, and still oppressed,
My heart began to break;
My God, Thy wrath forbade my rest,
And kept my eyes awake.

My overwhelming sorrows grew,
Till I could speak no more;
Then I within myself withdrew,
And called Thy judgments o’er.

I called back years and ancient times
When I beheld Thy face;
My spirit searched for secret crimes
That might withhold Thy grace.

I called Thy mercies to my mind
Which I enjoyed before;
And will the Lord no more be kind?
His face appear no more?

Will He for ever cast me off?
His promise ever fail?
Has He forgot His tender love?
Shall anger still prevail?

But I forbid this hopeless thought;
This dark, despairing frame,
Rememb’ring what Thy hand hath wrought;
Thy hand is still the same.

I’ll think again of all Thy ways,
And talk Thy wonders o’er;
Thy wonders of recovering grace,
When flesh could hope no more.

Grace dwells with justice on the throne;
And men that love Thy Word
Have in Thy sanctuary known
The counsels of the Lord.