Up from the deeps, O God, I cry to thee!
Hear my soul's prayer, hear thou her litany,
O thou who sayest, "Come, wanderer, home to me."
Up from the deeps of sorrow, wherein lie
Dark secrets veil'd from earth's unpitying eye,
My prayers, like star crown'd angels, Godward fly.
From the calm bosom when in quiet hour
God's Holy Spirit reigns with largest power,
Then shall each thought in prayer's white blossom flower.
Not from life's shallows, where the waters sleep,
A dull, low marsh where stagnant vapours creep,
But ocean voiced, deep calling unto deep.
As he of old, King David, call'd to thee,
As cries the heart of poor humanity,
"Clamavi, Domine, exaudi me!"**
—C. S. Fenner, as quoted in C. H. Spurgeon's Treasury of David, Ps 130, verse 1
** "I cry, O Lord, hear me!"
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