1 O God the heathen entred have
Thine heritance, defil'd
Thine holy temple, they on heaps
Jerusalem have pil'd.
2 Thy servants bodies that are dead
They given have for meat
To fowls of heav'n, to beast of th' earth
Flesh of thy saints to eat.
3 Their blood they have forth poured round
Like unto water, and there was
None for to bury them.
4 To those that near unto us dwell
A scorn become are we,
A scoffing and reproach to them
That round about us be.
5 How long Jehovah, wilt thou still
Continue in thine ire
For ever? shall thy jealousy
Burn forth like unto fire?
6 Upon the heathen pour thy wrath,
Who never did thee know:
Upon the kingdoms that have not
Call'd on thy name also.
7 Because they Jacob have devour'd,
And they his dwelling place
To utter desolation
Did miserably raze.
8 Mind not against us former sins
O let thy bowels haste
Us to prevent, because we are
Near utterly laid waste.
9 God of our safety help thou us,
For th' honour of thy name:
Free us also, and purge away
Our sins ev'n for the same.
10 why say the heathen, where's their God?
Before them bring to light
The vengeance of thy saints blood-shed,
And that before our fight.
11 Before thee let the pris'ners sighs
Come up accordingly,
As mighty is thine arm; save those
That are design'd to die.
12 And to our neighbours seven fold
Into their bosom pay:
Their vile reproach wherewith O Lord,
Reproached thee have they.
13 So we thy folk and pasture sheep
Will give thee thanks always;
And unto generations all
We will shew forth thy praise.