Words: Brady and Tate, A New Version of the Psalms of David
1 Do thou, O God, in mercy help, for man my life pursues; To crush me with repeated wrongs he daily strife renews. 2 Continually my spiteful foes to ruin me combine; Thou seest, who sitt'st enthroned on high, what mighty numbers join. 3 But though sometimes surprised by fear, (on danger's first alarm,) Yet still for succor I depend on thy Almighty arm. 4 God's faithful promise I shall praise: on which I now rely: In God I trust, and, trusting him, the arm of flesh defy. 5 They wrest my words, and make them speak a sense they never meant: Their thoughts are all, with restless spite, on my destruction bent. 6 In close assemblies they combine, and wicked projects lay; They watch my steps, and lie in wait to make my soul their prey. 7 Shall such injustice still escape? O righteous God, arise; Let thy just wrath, (too long provoked,) this impious race chastise. 8 Thou number'st all my steps, since first I was compelled to flee; My very tears are treasured up, and registered by thee. 9 When therefore I invoke thy aid, my foes shall be o'erthrown; For I am well assured that God my righteous cause will own. 10,11 I'll trust God's word, and so despise the force that man can raise; 12 To thee, O God, my vows are due; to thee I'll render praise. 13 Thou hast retrieved my soul from death, and thou wilt still secure The life thou hast so oft preserved, and make my footsteps sure; That thus protected by thy pow'r I may this light enjoy, And in the service of my God my lengthened days employ.