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Blessed is he that wisely doth
the poor man’s case consider;
For when the time of trouble is,
the Lord will him deliver.
God will him keep, yea, save alive;
on earth he bless’d shall live;
And to his enemies’ desire
thou wilt him not up give.
God will give strength when he on bed
of languishing doth mourn;
And in his sickness sore, O Lord,
thou all his bed wilt turn.
I said, O Lord, do thou extend
thy mercy unto me;
O do thou heal my soul; for why?
I have offended thee.
Those that to me are enemies,
of me do evil say,
When shall he die, that so his name
may perish quite away?
To see me if he comes, he speaks
vain words: but then his heart
Heaps mischief to it, which he tells,
when forth he doth depart.
My haters jointly whispering,
’gainst me my hurt devise.
Mischief, say they, cleaves fast to him;
he li’th, and shall not rise.
Yea, ev’n mine own familiar friend,
on whom I did rely,
Who ate my bread, ev’n he his heel
against me lifted high.
But, Lord, be merciful to me,
and up again me raise,
That I may justly them requite
according to their ways.
By this I know that certainly
I favour’d am by thee;
Because my hateful enemy
triumphs not over me.
But as for me, thou me uphold’st
in mine integrity;
And me before thy countenance
thou sett’st continually.
The Lord, the God of Israel,
be bless’d for ever then,
From age to age eternally.
Amen, yea, and amen.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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Bible Refs:
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Ps 41;
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echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
