Ballads for the Times (Now first collected,) Geraldine, A Modern Pyramid, Bartenus, A Thousand Lines, and other poems. By Martin F. Tupper. A new Edition, enlarged and revised |
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| V. | V.— PSALM CXLIV. |
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 | Ballads for the Times |  |
V.— PSALM CXLIV.
Blessed be the Lord my might,
Who hath taught my soul to fight,
Castle, Saviour, hope, and friend,
Whom I trust all help to send.
Who hath taught my soul to fight,
Castle, Saviour, hope, and friend,
Whom I trust all help to send.
384
Lord, what is man, or what his son
That thou regardest such an one?
A thing of nought: his little day
Passeth shadow-like away.
That thou regardest such an one?
A thing of nought: his little day
Passeth shadow-like away.
Bow Thy heavens, Lord! return,
Touch the mountains that they burn,
Forth Thy scathing lightnings cast,
With Thy shafts consume them fast!
Touch the mountains that they burn,
Forth Thy scathing lightnings cast,
With Thy shafts consume them fast!
Send Thy power from on high,
Rescue me, for ever nigh,
Save me from the drowning wave,
From these wicked children save!
Rescue me, for ever nigh,
Save me from the drowning wave,
From these wicked children save!
God, to Thee new songs I sing,
On my lute new praise I bring,—
To kings Thou givest victory, Lord,
And savest David from the sword.
On my lute new praise I bring,—
To kings Thou givest victory, Lord,
And savest David from the sword.
Help, and save me from the hand
Of children, strangers in the land;
For their mouths are lies within,
And their right hands red with sin.
Of children, strangers in the land;
For their mouths are lies within,
And their right hands red with sin.
That our sons may grow in good
Like young saplings of the wood,
And our daughters may be seen
As Thy temple pure and clean.
Like young saplings of the wood,
And our daughters may be seen
As Thy temple pure and clean.
385
That our garners more and more
May be full with various store,
That our teeming sheep may yield
Thousand-fold in street and field:
May be full with various store,
That our teeming sheep may yield
Thousand-fold in street and field:
That our oxen's sturdy toil
Drain the treasures of the soil;
None in bonds be led away,
No complaining, no decay.
Drain the treasures of the soil;
None in bonds be led away,
No complaining, no decay.
Happy people! prosper'd so,
Blest beyond all bliss below;
Blest who have, all gods above,
For their God the Lord of love!
Blest beyond all bliss below;
Blest who have, all gods above,
For their God the Lord of love!
| Ballads for the Times | |