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| Text: | In trouble and in thrall |
| Author: | T. S. |
1 In trouble and in thrall
unto the Lord I call,
And he doth me comfort;
Deliver me, I pray,
From lying lips alway,
and tongues of false report.
2 What 'vantage or what thing
gett'st thou thus for to sting,
Thou false and flatt'ring liar?
Thy tongue doth hurt, it's seen,
No less than arrows keen,
or hot consuming fire.
3 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.
4 With them that peace do hate
I came to meditate,
And set a quiet life:
But when my mind was told,
Causeless I was controul'd
by them that loved strife.
| Text Information | |
|---|---|
| First Line: | In trouble and in thrall |
| Author: | T. S. |
| Language: | English |
| Publication Date: | 1790 |
| Scripture: | |
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