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Poem	v.5,13-19,22,23 C. M. Deliverance from death. Unto thine hand, O God of truth, My spirit I commit; Thou hast redeemed my soul from death, And saved me from the pit. The passions of my hope and fear Maintained a doubtful strife, While sorrow, pain, and sin conspired To take away my life. "My times are in thine hand," I cried, "Though I draw near the dust; Thou art the refuge where I hide, The God in whom I trust. O make thy reconciled face Upon thy servant shine, And save me for thy mercy's sake, For I'm entirely thine. PAUSE. ['Twas in my haste my spirit said, "I must despair and die, I am cut off before thine eyes; But thou hast heard my cry.] Thy goodness how divinely free! How wondrous is thy grace To those that fear thy majesty, And trust thy promises! O love the Lord, all ye his saints, And sing his praises loud; He'll bend his ear to your complaints, And recompense the proud.
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