A New Version of the Psalms of David Fitted to the Tunes used in Churches. By Sir Richard Blackmore |
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Psalm XI.
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| CL. |
 | A New Version of the Psalms of David |  |
21
Psalm XI.
My Soul with Hope thy Promise fills,
Then why do my Advisers cry,
To Mountains, Caves, or lonely Hills,
Swift as a Bird for Safety fly?
The Wicked bend their Bow, and make
Their Arrows ready on the String,
And Aim from lurking Places take
Destruction on the Good to bring.
Then why do my Advisers cry,
To Mountains, Caves, or lonely Hills,
Swift as a Bird for Safety fly?
The Wicked bend their Bow, and make
Their Arrows ready on the String,
And Aim from lurking Places take
Destruction on the Good to bring.
If the Foundations, Right, and Laws,
Are by Oppression broken thro',
What to withstand the pow'rful Cause
Can the few friendless Righteous do?
In Heav'n his Holy Place on High
The Lord sits awful on his Throne;
He views all Nations with His Eye
To prove, and makes Mens Actions known.
Are by Oppression broken thro',
What to withstand the pow'rful Cause
Can the few friendless Righteous do?
In Heav'n his Holy Place on High
The Lord sits awful on his Throne;
He views all Nations with His Eye
To prove, and makes Mens Actions known.
He do's the righteous Man chastise,
And tries his Patience by the Smart;
But do's the Violent despise,
And hates the Wicked from his Heart.
He on the Wicked Snares shall rain,
Torments and vengeful Tempests pour,
Brimstone and Fire and dreadful Pain,
(Sad Portion!) shall th' Unjust devour.
And tries his Patience by the Smart;
But do's the Violent despise,
And hates the Wicked from his Heart.
He on the Wicked Snares shall rain,
Torments and vengeful Tempests pour,
Brimstone and Fire and dreadful Pain,
(Sad Portion!) shall th' Unjust devour.
| A New Version of the Psalms of David | |