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Hymn/Song Information

My crafty foe with flattering art his

My crafty foe, with flattr'ing art,
his wicked purpose would disguise
But reason whispers to my heart,
he ne'er sets God before his eyes.
He soothes himself, retired from sight,
secure he thinks his treach'rous game
Till his dark plots, exposed to light,
their false contriver brand with shame.

In deeds he is my foe confessed,
Whilst with his tongue he speaks me fair;
True wisdom's banished from his breast,
and vice has sole dominion there.
His wakeful malice spends the night
in forging his accursed designs;
His obstinate ungen'rous spite
no execrable means declines.

But, Lord, thy mercy, my sure hope,
above the heav'nly orb ascends;
Thy sacred truth's unmeasured scope
beyond the spreading sky extends.
Thy justice, like the hills, remains;
unfathomed depths thy judgments are;
Thy providence the world sustains;
the whole creation is thy care.

Since of thy goodness all partake,
with what assurance should the just
Thy shelt'ring wings their refuge make,
and saints to thy protection trust.
Such guests shall to thy courts be led
to banquet on thy love's repast;
And drink, as from a fountain's head,
of joys that shall for ever last.

With thee the springs of life remain;
thy presence is eternal day:
O! let thy saints thy favor gain;
to upright hearts thy truth display.
Whilst pride's insulting foot would spurn,
and wicked hands my life surprise;
Their mischiefs on themselves return;
down, down they're fall'n, no more to rise.

marker 99
Meter: 8 8 8 8 D (D.L.M.)
      Dates: 1821
      Bible Refs: Ps 36;
      Hymn/Song Book Year Song #
      1821# 36
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