1. Why hast forever cast us off,
O God? against thy flock,
In thy delightful pastures fed,
Why does thine anger smoke?
2. Thine ancient purchased flock remind,
The lot thou didst possess,
And hast redeemed; this Sion's mount,
Thy famous dwelling place.
3. Come, see, and speedily requite
The lasting ruins wrought;
All that thy foes, with impious rage,
Have on thy temple brought.
4. Thine enemies roar, where once thy tribes
For sacred worship met;
In token of their victory,
Their banners high they've set.
5. The man that hewed the mountain oak,
Was had in great renown.
6. But now they ax, and hammer, join.
To break it's carved works down.
7. Thy holy temple they have cast
Into devouring flame;
And, level with the ground, defiled
The dwelling of thy name,
8. At once, our holy rites, and us,
To root out, they presumed;
The synagogues of God, with fire,
All, through the land, consumed.
9. We see no more our hopeful signs,
No prophet calms our woes;
How long our ruined state shall last,
There's none among us knows.
10. How long shall our insulting foes,
O mighty God, defame?
Forever shall the enemy
Blaspheme thy holy name?
11. Why is thy hand withheld? stretch, from
Thy bosom, thy right hand.
12. For God's my rock of old; who works
Salvation through the land.
13. By thy resistless strength, thou dldst
The raging sea divide;
And crushed the furious dragon's head,
Beneath the refluent tide.
14. The heads of the leviathan,
Are broken, by thine arm;
And to the people given for meat,
That in the deserts swarm.
15. Thou clav'st the fountain, and the flood;
Thou driest up rivers might.
16. Thine is the day, the night is thine;
Thou form'st the sun, and light.
17. Earth's limits, with her various climes,
Are fixed by thy strong hand;
The summer's heat, and winter's cold,
Obey thy wise command.
18. Mind, O Jehovah, how the foe
Has loaded us with shame;
And how the foolish people have
Blasphemed thy sacred name.
19. The soul of thy poor turtle dove,
To herds of prey give not;
Nor let the assembly of the poor
Be evermore forgot.
20. Thy faithful covenant, Lord, regard;
For the dark parts, we see,
Of the earth, are filled with rueful seats
Of monstrous cruelty.
21. O let not the oppressed return
Unheard, and filled with shame
But let the poor and needy, still
Have cause to praise thy name.
22. Arise, O God, plead thine own cause;
And bear in memory,
With what contempt, the foolish man,
Daily, reproacheth thee.
23. Forget not, Lord, the scornful voice
Of thine insulting foes;
Their tumult constantly ascends,
And more blasphemous grows.
John Barnard, born in Boston, Nov. 6, 1681; in 1752 made a version of psalms with the music; settled at Marblehead; introduced new music ther; died Jan 14, 1770, aged 89.
A Dictionary of Musical Information by John W. Moore, Boston: Oliver, Ditson & Company, 1876
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