PSALM 55. v. 1–8, 16–18, 22. (C. M.) Support for the afflicted and tempted Soul.
I
O God, my refuge, hear my cries,
Behold my flowing tears,
For earth and hell my hurt devise,
And triumph in my fears.
II
Their rage is levell'd at my life,
My soul with guilt they load,
And fill my thoughts with inward strife
To shake my hope in God.
III
With inward pain my heart-strings sound,
I groan with every breath;
Horror and fear beset me round
Amongst the shades of death.
IV
O were I like a feather'd dove,
And innocence had wings;
I'd fly, and make a long remove
From all these restless things.
V
Let me to some wild desert go,
And find a peaceful home,
Where storms of malice never blow,
Temptations never come.
VI
Vain hopes, and vain inventions all
To 'scape the rage of hell!
The mighty God on whom I call
Can save me here as well.
VII
By morning light I'll seek his face,
At noon repeat my cry,
The night shall hear me ask his grace,
Nor will he long deny.
VIII
God shall preserve my soul from fear,
Or shield me when afraid;
Ten thousand angels must appear
If he command their aid.
IX
I cast my burdens on the Lord,
The Lord sustains them all;
My courage rests upon his word
That saints shall never fall.
X
My highest hopes shall not be vain,
My lips shall spread his praise;
While cruel and deceitful men
Scarce live out half their days.
I have left out some whole psalms, and several parts of others that
tend to fill the mind with overwhelming sorrows, or sharp resentment;
neither of which are so well suited to the spirit of the gospel, and
therefore the particular complaints of David against Achitopel here are entirely omitted.
