|
|
| |
|
In trouble and in thrall
unto the Lord I call
And he doth me comfort:
Deliver me, I pray,
From lying lips always,
and tongues of false report.
What 'vantage or what thing
gett'st thou thus for to sing,
Thou false and flatt'ring liar?
Thy tongue doth hurt, 'tis seen,
No less than arrows keen,
or hot consuming fire.
Alas! That I am fain
in those tents to remain,
Which Kedar are by name:
By whom the flock elect,
And all of Isaac's sect,
are put to open shame.
With them that peace do hate
I came to meditate,
And set a quiet life:
But when my mind was told,
Causeless I was controlled
by them that lovèd strife.
|
marker 99
|
LYRICS
|
Meter:
|
6 6 6 6 6 6
|
|
Writer(s):
|
|
|
Trans/Adapted:
|
| |
Dates:
|
1549,1812
|
|
Bible Refs:
|
Ps 120;
|
LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
|
Hymn/Song Book
|
Year
|
Song #
|
| 1812 | # 120 |
echo ' | ';
|
Hymn Writer
