|Text:||Save Me, O Lord, from Every Foe|
1. Save me, O Lord, from every foe;
In Thee my trust I place,
Though all the good that I can do
Can ne’er deserve Thy grace.
2. Yet if my God prolong my breath,
The saints may profit by’t;
The saints, the glory of the earth,
The men of my delight.
3. Let heathens to their idols haste,
And worship wood or stone;
But my delightful lot is cast
Where the true God is known.
4. His hand provides my constant food,
He fills my daily cup;
Much am I pleased with present good,
But more rejoice in hope.
5. God is my portion and my joy,
His counsels are my light;
He gives me sweet advice by day,
And gentle hints by night.
6. My soul would all her thoughts approve
To His all-seeing eye;
Not death, nor hell, my hope shall move,
While such a friend is nigh.
|First Line:||Save me, O Lord, from every foe|
|Title:||Save Me, O Lord, from Every Foe|
|Author:||Isaac Watts (1719)|
|Source:||The Psalms of David, 1719|
|Composer:||Johann Crüger (1647)|
|Incipit:||16512 33235 43215|
|Source:||Praxis Pietatis Melica, 1647|
|Adobe Acrobat image:||Adobe Acrobat image|
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|Noteworthy Composer score:||Noteworthy Composer score|
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