The 42nd and 43rd

Why art thou cast down, my soul,
And in my heart all peace is gone?
Hope thou in God: I shall again
Sing praises at His mighty throne.

My soul, thine eyes are turned away
From Him where refuge can be found;
Small wonder, then, so dark the day,
When trials and troubles do abound.

The floods come from His waterspouts,
His waves and billows me o'erflow -
Mine enemies would have me doubt,
But still His goodness I may know.

Lord, send Thy Light; Lord, send Thy Truth;
They, back to Thee shall bear my heart,
Unto that most holy place
Where deepest joys Thou dost impart.

Though now my soul in heaviness
Cleaves to the dust, I hope in Him.
Be ready, harp: for soon I'll sing,
And praise my Saviour once again.

MC