Save me, O God, the swelling floods Break in upon my soul; I sink, and sorrows o'er my head Like mighty waters roll. I cry till all my voice be gone, In tears I waste the day: My God, behold my longing eyes, And shorten Thy delay. They hate my soul without a cause, And still their number grows More than the hairs around my head, And mighty are my foes. 'Twas then I paid that dreadful debt That men could never pay, And gave those honors to Thy law Which sinners took away. Thus in the great Messiah's name, The royal prophet mourns; Thus he awakes our hearts to grief, And gives us joy by turns. Now shall the saints rejoice, and find Salvation in My Name; For I have borne their heavy load Of sorrow, pain, and shame. Grief, like a garment, clothed Me round, And sackcloth was My dress, While I procured for naked souls A robe of righteousness. Amongst My brethren and the Jews I like a stranger stood, And bore their vile reproach, to bring The Gentiles near to God. I came in sinful mortals' stead, To do My Father's will; Yet when I cleansed My Father's house, They scandalized My zeal. My fasting and My holy groans Were made the drunkard's song; But God, from His celestial throne, Heard My complaining tongue. He saved Me from the dreadful deep, Nor let My soul be drowned; He raised and fixed My sinking feet On well-established ground. 'Twas in a most accepted hour My prayer arose on high; And for My sake my God shall hear The dying sinner's cry.