Psalm LXXIX.
1
See Lord how thy inheritance,
The heathens all invade:
Defile thy Temple, and in heaps
Jerusalem have laid.
2
The bodies of thy servants dear,
Of fowls are made the meat:
The flesh of thy most precious saints
Is left for beasts to eat.
3
Their blood like water they have shed
About Jerusalem:
Their carcases are cast abroad,
And none to bury them.
4
Our neighbours have reproached us,
And all about us scorn:
But Lord how long wilt thou be wroth?
Shall anger ever burn?
5
Upon the heathens pour thy wrath,
That have not known thy name:
And on the Kingdoms of the World
That call not on the same.
6
For they have Jacob quite devour'd,
And laid his dwelling wast:
But do not thou remember, Lord,
Our sins in ages past.
7
Prevent us with thy mercy soon,
Who ready are to fall:
Help, Lord, and for thy glorious name,
Forgive and save us all.
8
Why should the heathen boasting say,
Their God, now where is he?
Lord make them see thy servants blood
Shall be reveng'd by thee.
9
O hear the mournful sighs of them,
That fast in prison lie:
And save them by thy mighty power
That are condemn'd to die.
10
Into their bosom sevenfold,
Lord let it be repaid,
That have upon thy holy name,
Such vile reproaches laid.
11
So we that are thy pasture sheep,
And chosen heritage,
Will render thanks to thee, O Lord,
And praise from age to age.
