O Lord, in my songs I have praised Thee
For all that was sweet and was fair;
And now a new song would I sing Thee,
A song that is wondrous and rare.
A song of the heart that is broken,
A song of the sighs and the tears,
The sickness, the want, and the sadness
Of the days of our pilgrimage years.
A song of the widows and orphans,
Of the weary and hungry and sad --
Loud praise of the will Thou has broken,
The will of the young and the glad.
A song of the outcasts and martyrs,
A song of the scorned and despised --
The lonely, dishonoured, forsaken,
Who knew the rejection of Christ.
Sweet sings the great choir of sorrow
The song of the gladness untold,
To Him on the Throne of His glory,
Who wept in the days of old.