1 WITH pity, Lord, a sinner see, Weary of Thy ways and Thee; Forgive my fond despair A blessing in the means to find, My struggling to throw off the care, And cast them all behind. 2 Long have I groan’d Thy grace to gain, Suffer’d on, but all in vain: An age of mournful years I waited for Thy passing by, And lost my prayers, my sighs, and tears, And never found Thee nigh. 3 Thou wouldst not let me go away; Still Thou forcest me to stay. O might the secret power Which will not with its