1 Protect me from my cruel Foes,
and shield me, Lord, from Harm;
Because my Trust I still repose
on thy Almighty Arm.
2 My Soul all Help but thine does slight,
all Gods but Thee disown;
Yet can no Deeds of mine requite,
the Goodness thou hast shown.
3 But those that strictly virtuous are,
and love the Thing that's right,
To favour always, and prefer,
shall be my chief Delight.
4 How shall their Sorrows be increas'd,
who other Gods adore!
Their bloody Off'rings I detest,
their very Names abhor.
5 My Lot is fall'n in that blest Land,
where God is truly known;
He fills my cup with lib'ral Hand;
'tis He supports my Throne.
6 In Nature's most delightful Scene
my happy Portion lies;
The Place of my appointed Reign
all other Lands outvies.
7 Therefore my Soul shall bless the Lord,
whose Precepts give me Light,
And private Counsel still afford,
in sorrow's dismal Night.
8 I strive each Action to approve
to His all-seeing Eye;
No Danger shall my Hopes remove,
because He still is night.
9 Therefore my Heart all Grief defies,
my Glory does rejoice;
My Flesh shall rest, in Hopes to rise,
wak'd by His pow'rful Voice.
10 Thou, Lord, when I resign my Breath,
my Soul from Hell shalt free;
Nor let thy Holy One in Death
the least Corruption see.
11 Thou shalt the Paths of Life display,
that to thy Presence lead;
Where Pleasures dwell without Allay,
and Joy that never fade.