1 Lo! how my restless foes my life pursue!
With pity, Lord, th' impending peril view;
2 Many are they, my ruin that desire,
And, insolently proud, my death conspire.
3 But, whate'er terrors compass round my heart,
Thou, thou alone my great protector art.
4 Thee will I praise, O God, on thee rely,
And all attempts of mortal rage defy;
5 Yet constant they detract from what I speak,
And, to distress me, villainously seek;
6 To secret places they in crouds retreat,
And there t' ensnare my guileless soul they wait.
7 Shall they escape, and in their crimes go on?
Rise in thy fearful wrath, and cast them down.
8 My toils thou numb'rest, and thou view'st my flight;
In thy fair tablet all my tears are writ:
9 Assur'd I am, that when to thee I cry,
Thou wilt assist me, and my foes will fly;
10 Thee will I praise, O God; in thee I'll trust,
And brave the threat'nings of imperious dust;
12 Sav'd by thy hand from my destructive foes,
Thee will I praise, to thee I'll pay my vows;
13 For thou'lt preserve me from the dreary grave,
My tott'ring feet, that they not slip, thou'lt save;
Favour'd by thee, long life shall I enjoy;
Long to thy glory I'll that life employ.