Psalm 142
Words: Brady and Tate, A New Version of the Psalms of David
1 To God, with mournful voice,
in deep distress I prayed;
2 Made him the umpire of my cause,
my wrongs before him laid.
3 Thou didst my steps direct,
when my grieved soul despaired;
For where I thought to walk secure,
they had their traps prepared.
4 I looked, but found no friend
to own me in distress:
All refuge failed, no man vouchsafed
his pity or redress.
5 To God at last I prayed;
thou, Lord, my refuge art,
My portion in the land of life,
till life itself depart.
6 Reduced to greatest straits,
to thee I make my moan:
O save me from oppressing foes,
for me too pow'rful grown.
7 That I may praise thy name,
my soul from prison bring;
Whilst of thy kind regard to me
assembled saints shall sing.
