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O Lord, I unto thee do cry,
do thou make haste to me,
And give an ear unto my voice,
when I cry unto thee.
As incense let my prayer be
directed in thine eyes;
And the uplifting of my hands
as th’ ev ‘ning sacrifice.
Set, Lord, a watch before my mouth,
keep of my lips the door.
My heart incline thou not unto
the ills I should abhor,
To practise wicked works with men
that work iniquity;
And with their delicates my taste
let me not satisfy.
Let him that righteous is me smite,
it shall a kindness be;
Let him reprove, I shall it count
a precious oil to me:
Such smiting shall not break my head;
for yet the time shall fall,
When I in their calamities
to God pray for them shall.
When as their judges down shall be
in stony places cast,
Then shall they hear my words; for they
shall sweet be to their taste.
About the grave’s devouring mouth
our bones are scatter’d round,
As wood which men do cut and cleave
lies scatter’d on the ground.
But unto thee, O God the Lord,
mine eyes uplifted be:
My soul do not leave destitute;
my trust is set on thee.
Lord, keep me safely from the snares
which they for me prepare;
And from the subtile gins of them
that wicked workers are.
Let workers of iniquity
into their own nets fall,
Whilst I do, by thine help, escape
the danger of them all.
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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 141;
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echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
