1 Preserve me, Lord, from that insidious croud,
Those cruel foes, who've long my death pursued,
2 Who mischiefs 'gainst me constantly prepare,
Threaten my ruin, and denounce a war:
3 Whose tongues their deadly slanders scatter round,
And far more deeply than a viper wound:
4 Defend me from their villainous deceit,
And shield me from the violence they threat.
5 For my poor soul in ambuscade they lie,
And hope t' ensnare me by their treachery.
6 But thou, whom long my only strength I've made,
Hear, when I pray, and hasten to my aid;
7 My great salvation thou, my Lord, my God;
Oft hast thou aid in doubtful times bestow'd,
8 Now too, make all their hopes, their counsels void,
Their souls infatuate, and confound their pride.
9 On their own heads fall all their killing wrongs;
Wound their own souls the arrows of their tongues:
10 From heav'n pour down thy dread consuming fire;
Deep in th' avenging flame let them expire;
11 Drive false detractors, from our earth away,
And in their horrid fate thy pow'r display.
12 Thou wilt, I know, griev'd innocence sustain:
To thee the injur'd ne'er apply in vain.
13 Therefore the righteous in thy presence dwell,
Sing to thy name, and all thy praises tell.