The Lord, who knows full well
The heart of ev'ry saint,
Invites us all our griefs to tell,
To pray and never faint.

He bows his gracious ear
We never plead in vain;
Yet we must wait till he appear,
And pray, and pray again.

Though unbelief suggest,
Why should we longer wait?
He bids us never give him rest,
But be importunate.

'Twas thus a widow poor,
Without support or friend,
Beset th' unrighteous judge's door,
And gain'd at last her end.

And shall not Jesus hear
His chosen when they cry?
Yes, though he may a while forbear,
He'll not their suit deny,

Then let us earnest be,
And never faint in pray'r;
He loves our importunity,
And makes our cause his care.