Complainer 141

I am a great complainer
That bears the name of Christ;
Come, all ye Zion mourners,
And listen to my cries:
I've many sore temptations,
And sorrows to my soul;
I feel my faith declining
And my affections cold.

I wish it was with me now,
As in the days of old,
The glorious light of Jesus
Was flowing in my soul.
But now I am distressed,
And no relief can find,
With a hard, deceitful heart,
And a wretched, wandering mind.

It is great pride and passion
Beset me on my way,
So I am filled with folly,
And so neglect to pray.
While others run rejoicing,
And seem to lose no time,
I am so weak I stumble,
And so I'm left behind.

I read that peace and happiness
Meet Christians in their way,
That bear their cross with meekness,
And don’t neglect to pray.
But I, a thousand objects,
Beset me in my way,
So I am filled with folly,
And so neglect to pray.