Psalm XLIV.
1
Our ears have often heard, O God;
Our fathers have us told,
What wonders in their days were done,
And in the times of old.
2
How thou didst drive the heathen out,
With all their wicked race:
And didst thy chosen people take,
And plant them in their place.
3
It was not by their sword, nor arm,
That they subdu'd the land:
But by thy favour, Lord, alone,
And by thy mighty hand.
4
Command deliverance then, O God,
From all our enemies:
Then shall we push and tread them down,
That up against us rise.
5
Nor sword, nor bow, but thou alone
Hast brought our foes to shame:
In thee we all the day will boast,
And ever praise thy name.
6
But now thou seem'st to cast us off;
Our armies prosper not:
We flee before our enemies,
And they our spoils have got.
7
As sheep for slaughter we are made,
And scattered here and there:
We are become the worst of slaves,
For whom no buyers care.
8
A meer reproach and scorn we are,
To neighbours round about:
A proverb and a laughing stock,
To all the common rout.
9
This makes me blush continually,
And hide my face for shame:
Because the cruel enemy,
Blasphemes thy holy name.
10
But though all this we have endur'd,
We did not thee forsake:
Nor casting off thy covenant,
A new religion take.
11
We have not turned from thy ways,
Nor was our heart unsound:
Though at the gates of death we were,
And trodden to the ground.
12
Ev'n then we did not thee forget,
Nor to an idol bow:
Thou Lord that know'st the hearts of all,
Thou know'st it to be so.
13
Yea, Lord, we choose to suffer death,
And would not thee deny:
Although like sheep we all day long,
Appointed were to die.
14
Awake then, Lord, why sleepest thou
Arise and save, we pray:
From our affliction and distress,
Why turnest thou away?
15
For we are bow'd even to the dust,
And to the earth we cleave:
Arise, and from this bondage great,
In mercy us relieve.
