Words: The Scottish Psalter
First Version (C.M.) (Second version below) 1 Lord, hear my pray'r, attend my suits; and in thy faithfulness Give thou an answer unto me, and in thy righteousness. 2 Thy servant also bring thou not in judgment to be tried: Because no living man can be in thy sight justified. 3 For th' en'my hath pursued my soul, my life to ground down tread: In darkness he hath made me dwell, as who have long been dead. 4 My sp'rit is therefore overwhelmed in me perplexedly; Within me is my very heart amazed wondrously. 5 I call to mind the days of old, to meditate I use On all thy works; upon the deeds I of thy hands do muse. 6 My hands to thee I stretch; my soul thirsts, as dry land, for thee. 7 Haste, Lord, to hear, my spirit fails: hide not thy face from me; Lest like to them I do become that go down to the dust. 8 At morn let me thy kindness hear; for in thee do I trust. Teach me the way that I should walk: I lift my soul to thee. 9 Lord, free me from my foes; I flee to thee to cover me. 10 Because thou art my God, to do thy will do me instruct: Thy Sp'rit is good, me to the land of uprightness conduct. 11 Revive and quicken me, O Lord, ev'n for thine own name's sake; And do thou, for thy righteousness, my soul from trouble take. 12 And of thy mercy slay my foes; let all destroyed be That do afflict my soul: for I a servant am to thee. Second Version (126.96.36.199.D.) 1 Oh, hear my prayer, Lord, And unto my desire To bow thine ear accord, I humbly thee require; And, in thy faithfulness, Unto me answer make, And, in thy righteousness, Upon me pity take. 2 In judgment enter not With me thy servant poor; For why, this well I wot, No sinner can endure The sight of thee, O God: If thou his deeds shalt try, He dare make none abode Himself to justify. 3 Behold, the cruel foe Me persecutes with spite, My soul to overthrow: Yea, he my life down quite Unto the ground hath smote, And made me dwell full low In darkness, as forgot, Or men dead long ago. 4 Therefore my sp'rit much vexed, O'erwhelmed is me within; My heart right sore perplexed And desolate hath been. 5 Yet I do call to mind What ancient days record, Thy works of ev'ry kind I think upon, O Lord. 6 Lo, I do stretch my hands To thee, my help alone; For thou well understands All my complaint and moan: My thirsting soul desires, And longeth after thee, As thirsty ground requires With rain refreshed to be. 7 Lord, let my pray'r prevail, To answer it make speed; For, lo, my sp'rit doth fail: Hide not thy face in need; Lest I be like to those That do in darkness sit, Or him that downward goes Into the dreadful pit. 8 Because I trust in thee, O Lord, cause me to hear Thy loving-kindness free, When morning doth appear: Cause me to know the way Wherein my path should be; For why, my soul on high I do lift up to thee. 9 From my fierce enemy In safety do me guide, Because I flee to thee, Lord, that thou may'st me hide. 10 My God alone art thou, Teach me thy righteousness: Thy Sp'rit's good, lead me to The land of uprightness. 11 O Lord, for thy name's sake, Be pleased to quicken me; And, for thy truth, forth take My soul from misery. 12 And of thy grace destroy My foes, and put to shame All who my soul annoy; For I thy servant am.