1 Do Thou, O God, in Mercy help;
for Man my Life pursues:
To crush me with repeated Wrongs,
he daily Strife renews.
2 Continually my spiteful Foes
to ruin me combine:
Thou seest, who sitt'st inthrone'd on high,
what mighty Numbers join.
3 But, tho' sometimes surpriz'd by Fear
(on Danger's first Alarm);
Yet still for Succour I depend
on thy almighty Arm.
4 God's faithful Promise I shall praise,
on which I now rely:
In God I trust, and, trusting Him,
the Arm of Flesh defy.
5 They wrest my Words, and make 'em speak
a Sense they never meant:
Their Thoughts are all, with restless Spite,
on my Destruction bent.
6 In close Assemblies they combine,
and wicked Projects lay;
They watch my Steps, and lie in wait
to make my soul their Prey.
7 Shall such Injustice still escape?
O righteous God, arise;
Let thy just Wrath (too long provok'd)
this impious Race chastise.
8 Thou numb'rset all my wand'ring Steps,
since first compel'd to flee:
My very Tears are treasur'd up,
and register'd by Thee.
9 When therefore I invoke thy Aid,
my Foes shall be oe'rthrown;
For I am well assur'd, that God
my righteous Cause will own.
10,11 I'll trust God's Word, and so despise
the Force that Man can raise:
12 To Thee, O God, my Vows are due;
to Thee I'll render Praise.
13 Thou hast retriev'd my Soul from Death,
and Thou wilt still secure
The Life Thou hast so oft preserv'd,
and make my Footsteps sure:
That thus, protected by thy Pow'r,
I may this Light enjoy:
And in the Service of my God
my lengthen'd Days employ.