Words: Brady and Tate, A New Version of the Psalms of David
1 Behold, O God, how heathen hosts have thy possession seized; Thy sacred house they have defiledd, thy holy city razed. 2 The mangled bodies of thy saints abroad unburied lay; Their flesh exposed to savage beasts, and ravenous birds of prey. 3 Quite through Jerus'lem was their blood like common water shed; And none were left alive to pay last duties to the dead. 4 The neighb'ring lands our small remains with loud reproaches wound; And We a laughing-stock are made to all the nations round. 5 How long wilt thou be angry, Lord; must we for ever mourn? Shall thy devouring jealous rage, like fire, for ever burn? 6 On foreign lands, that know not thee, thy heavy vengeance show'r; Those sinful kingdoms let it crush, that have not owned thy pow'r. 7 For their devouring jaws have preyed on Jacob's chosen race; And to a barren desert turned their fruitful dwelling-place. 8 O think not on our former sins, but speedily prevent The utter ruin of thy saints, almost with sorrow spent. 9 Thou God of our salvation, help, and free our souls from blame; So shall our pardon and defense exalt thy glorious Name. 10 Let infidels, that scoffing say, Where is the God they boast? In vengeance for thy slaughtered saints, perceive thee to their cost. 11 Lord, hear the sighing pris'ner's moan, thy saving pow'r extend; Preserve the wretches, doomed to die, from that untimely end. 12 On them who us oppress let all our suff'rings be repaid; Make their confusion seven times more than what on us they laid. 13 So we, thy people and thy flock, shall ever praise thy Name; And with glad hearts our grateful thanks from age to age proclaim.