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Hymn/Song Information

To Thee O Lord my cries ascend O haste




To thee, O Lord, my cries ascend,
O haste to my relief;
And with accustomed pity hear
the accents of my grief.


Instead of off'rings, let my pray'r
like morning incense rise;
My lifted hands supply the place
of ev'ning sacrifice.


From hasty language curb my tongue,
and let a constant guard
Still keep the portal of my lips,
with wary silence barred.


From wicked men's designs and deeds
my heart and hands restrain
Nor let me in the booty share
of their unrighteous gain.


Let upright men reprove my faults,
and I shall think them kind;
Like balm that heals a wounded head,
I their reproof shall find.


And, in return, my fervent pray'r
I shall for them address,
When they are tempted and reduced,
like me, to sore distress.


When skulking in En-gedi's rock
I to their chiefs appeal,
If one reproachful word I spoke,
When I had pow'r to kill.


Yet us they persecute to death;
our scattered ruins lie
As thick as from the hewer's axe
the severed splinters fly.


But, Lord, to thee I still direct
my supplicating eyes;
O leave not destitute my soul,
whose trust on thee relies.


Do thou preserve me from the snares
that wicked hands have laid:
Let them in their own nets be caught,
while my escape is made.

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LYRICS
Meter: 8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
Writer(s):
    Trans/Adapted:
      Dates: 1696
      Bible Refs: Ps 141;
      LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
      Hymn/Song Book Year Song #
      1821# 141
      MUSIC
      Name: WILTSHIRE
      Meter: 8 6 8 6 (C.M.)
      Writer(s):
        Dates: 1795
        SCORE PREVIEW
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