Words: Isaac Watts
Part 1: v.5, 13–19, 22, 23 Deliverance from death.
1 Unto thine hand, O God of truth, My spirit I commit; Thou hast redeemed my soul from death, And saved me from the pit.
2 The passions of my hope and fear Maintained a doubtful strife, While sorrow, pain, and sin conspired To take away my life.
3 “My times are in thine hand,” I cried, “Though I draw near the dust; Thou art the refuge where I hide, The God in whom I trust.
4 O make thy reconciled face Upon thy servant shine, And save me for thy mercy’s sake, For I’m entirely thine.
5 ’Twas in my haste my spirit said, “I must despair and die, I am cut off before thine eyes; But thou hast heard my cry.
6 Thy goodness how divinely free! How wondrous is thy grace To those that fear thy majesty, And trust thy promises!
7 O love the Lord, all ye his saints, And sing his praises loud; He’ll bend his ear to your complaints, And recompense the proud.
Part 2: v.7–13, 18–21 Deliverance from slander and reproach.
1 My heart rejoices in thy name, My God, my help, my trust; Thou hast preserved my face from shame, Mine honor from the dust.
2 “My life is spent with grief,” I cried, “My years consumed in groans, My strength decays, mine eyes are dried, And sorrow wastes my bones.”
3 Among mine enemies my name Was a mere proverb grown, While to my neighbors I became Forgotten and unknown.
4 Slander and fear on every side Seized and beset me round I to the throne of grace applied, And speedy rescue found.
5 How great deliverance thou hast wrought Before the sons of men! The lying lips to silence brought, And made their boastings vain!
6 Thy children from the strife of tongues Shall thy pavilion hide; Guard them from infamy and wrongs, And crush the sons of pride.
7 Within thy secret presence, Lord, Let me for ever dwell; No fenced city, walled and barred, Secures a saint so well.