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O! keep me in thy tend'rest care;
thy shelt'ring wings stretch out,
To guard me safe from savage foes,
that compass me about.
O'ergrown with luxury, enclosed
in their own fat they lie;
And with a proud blaspheming mouth
both God and man defy.
Well may they boast, for they have now
my paths encompassed round;
Their eyes at watch, their bodies bowed,
and crouching on the ground,
In posture of a lion set,
when greedy of his prey;
Or a young lion, when he lurks
within a covert way.
Arise, O Lord, defeat their plots,
their swelling rage control;
From wicked men, who are thy sword,
deliver thou my soul.
From worldly men, thy sharpest scourge,
whose portion's here below;
Who, filled with earthly stores, desire
no other bliss to know.
Their race is num'rous that partake
their substance while they live:
Their heirs survive, to whom they may
the vast remainder give.
But I, in uprightness, thy face
shall view without control;
And, waking, shall its image find
reflected in my soul.
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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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1696
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Bible Refs:
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Ps 17:8-16;
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1821 | # 17 |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
