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Though I do fast my flesh to tame,
yea, if I weep and moan;
I am reproach-ed for the same
by scorners ev'ry one.
If I for grief and pain of heart
in sackcloth use to walk,
Reproachfully they it pervert,
thereof they jest and talk.
Both high and low, and all the throng
that sit within the gate,
They have me ever in their tongue,
of me they talk and prate,
They that sit in the gate with spite
against me all agree,
The drunkards that in wine delight
do make their songs of me.
But unto thee, O Lord, I pray,
that when it pleaseth thee,
For thy great truth thou wilt alway
send down thy aid to me.
Pluck thou my feet out of the mire,
from drowning do me keep,
From such as owe me wrath and ire,
and from the waters deep.
Lest with the waves I should be drowned,
and depth my soul devour;
And lest the pit should me confound,
and shut me in her pow'r.
O Lord of hosts, to me give ear,
as thou art good and kind:
And as thy mercy is most dear,
Lord, have me in thy mind.
And do not from thy servant hide,
nor turn thy face away;
I am oppressed on every side,
in haste give ear, I pray.
O Lord, unto my soul draw nigh,
the same with aid repose;
Because of their great tyranny
acquit me from my foes.
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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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1562,1812
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Bible Refs:
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Ps 69:11-20;
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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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| 1812 | # 69 |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
