Untitled Hymn #1 Poem by Aidan Clevinger

O my Father, great and gentle,
Come and aid me here tonight.
For my sorrows come a-howling,
Chains of loss have bound me tight.

Were I in the strength of my flesh,
This great black horde try to meet.
There would be no hope of vict'ry,
Only certain, quick defeat.

Lord Sabaoth, Son of David,
Thou Thou sitteth on Thy throne,
If it please Thee, show me pity,
Hear my cries and broken groans.

Dry my tear and stand me upright,
'Tis Thy grace that I wait for,
'Till that day, so bright and cheery,
When I reach God's golden shores.