1 Why standest Thou afar, O Lord,
Why art Thou hid in trouble's hour?
The wicked persecute the poor
In haughty pride and reckless power.
2 Let their devices work their fall,
For in their shame is all their pride;
And while they seek unrighteous gain
The Lord of justice is defied.
3 The wicked thinks, in foolish pride,
There is no God Who will repay;
He has no fear of God or man
Because God's judgments long delay.
4 Unmoved by fear of coming doom,
On fraud and wickedness intent,
With craft he lurks and waits to catch
The helpless and the innocent.
5 A lion crouching for his prey,
He waits the poor to overthrow;
He thinks that God remembers not,
Or hides His face and will not know.
6 Arise, O Lord, lift up Thy hand,
O God, protect the poor and meek;
Why should the proud Thy justice doubt,
And words of bold defiance speak?
7 O Lord, Thou wilt indeed requite,
The sin and sorrow Thou dost see;
The helpless and the fatherless
Commit themselves, O Lord, to Thee.
8 Break Thou the power of wicked men
And let their works no longer stand;
The Lord is King for evermore,
Who drove the nations from His land.
9 Lord, Thou hast heard the lowly prayer,
The fainting heart Thou wilt restore,
The helpless cause Thou wilt maintain,
That mortal man may boast no more.
The Psalter: with responsive readings, 1912