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With years oppress’d, with sorrows worn — an adaptation in English verse of Psalms 71 by Sir Robert Grant

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With years oppress’d, with sorrows worn,
Dejected, harass’d, sick, forlorn,
To thee, O God, I pray:
To thee my wither’d hands arise,
To thee I lift these failing eyes,
Oh! cast me not away!
Thy mercy heard my infant prayer,
Thy love, with all a mother’s care,
Sustain’d my childish days:
Thy goodness watch’d my ripening youth,
And form’d my heart to love thy truth,
And fill’d my lips with praise.
O Saviour! has thy grace declined?
Can years affect th’ Eternal Mind?
Or time its love decay?—
A thousand ages pass thy sight,
And all their long and weary flight
Is gone like yesterday.
Then, even in age and grief, thy name
Shall still my languid heart inflame,
And bow my faltering knee:
Oh! yet this bosom feels the fire,
This trembling hand and drooping lyre
Have yet a strain for thee!
Yes! broken, tuneless, still, O Lord,
This voice transported shall record
Thy goodness tried so long;
Till, sinking slow, with calm decay,
Its feeble murmurs melt away
Into a seraph’s song!

This paraphrase of Psalms 71 in English verse by Sir Robert Grant was first published posthumously under the title “Psalm ⅬⅩⅩⅠ” by Robert’s brother Charles Grant (Lord Glenelg) in Sacred Poems by the Late Right Hon. Sir Robert Grant (1839), pp. 31-32.

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