1 When cruel foes with causeless malice arm,
And strike my harast soul with dread alarm,
Around the neighb'ring hills I'll cast mine eye;
They haply may immediate aid supply.
2 Yet sure our God, of heav'n, of earth, dread Lord,
In my distress will quick relief afford;
3 Nor thou, my soul, be lost in empty fear;
Thy God, to heal thy griefs, is ever near;
His eye, thy heav'nly guard, will never close,
4 Nor asks, like feeble mortals, soft repose.
5 Anigh thee, see, thy great preserver stands,
And o'er thy head his shelt'ring wings expands;
6 By day he shades thee from the scorching sun;
By night defends thee from the baleful moon:
7 At home thy sure protector he'll be found;
In vain insidious foes thy home surround;
Abroad he shields thee, or in peace or war;
He watches o'er thee with a father's care;
In ev'ry exigence thy life defends
Thy God's protecting mercy never ends.