My eyes grow dim with sorrow,
My strength grow less and less
And I find it hard to face tomorrow.
My body and soul racked with grief;
Everyday of my life knows pain.
For years I groan with no relief;
Come my Lord let not my spirit wane.
My strength fails, my bones grow weak;
The cold tomb looms close before me.
With my last whisper you will I seek,
Christ my Lord, the only hope for me.
You’ve been my Lord since the beginning;
You where the one gave me my first breath.
You are faithful to me with love unending;
And I will trust in you, both in life and death.
I will praise you Lord for your great love;
You are the Lord of my salvation, my King.
I will lift my hands in praise to you above;
I will praise your holy name in everything.
Carl A. Gooch ~ 24 January 2013
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