1 My Trust is in my heav'nly Friend,
My Hope in Thee, my GOD;
Rise, and my helpless Life defend
From those that seek my Blood.
2 With Insolence and Fury they
My Soul in Pieces tear,
As hungry Lions rend the Prey,
When no Deliverer's near.
3 If I had e'er provok'd them first,
Or once abus'd my Foe,
Then let him tread my Life to Dust,
And lay mine Honour low.
4 If there be Malice found in me,
I know thy piercing Eyes;
I should not dare appeal to Thee,
Nor ask my GOD to rise.
5 Arise, my GOD, lift up thy Hand,
Their Pride and Pow'r controul;
Awake to Judgment, and command
Deliv'rance for my Soul.
6 [Let Sinners, and their wicked Rage
Be humbled to the Dust;
Shall not the GOD of Truth engage
To vindicate the Just?
7 He knows the Heart, he tries the Reigns,
He will defend th' Upright:
His sharpest Arrows he ordains
Against the Sons of Spite.
8 For me their Malice digg'd a Pit,
But there themselves are cast;
My GOD makes all their Mischiefs light
On their own Heads at last.]
9 That cruel persecuting Race
Must feel his dreadful Sword:
Awake my Soul, and praise the Grace
And Justice of the Lord.
|First Line:||My Trust is in my heav'nly Friend|
|Topic:||Appeal to God: against persecutors; God: his care of saints; Persecution: Victory over and Deliverance from it(11 more...)|