Jehovah, to my prayer give ear,
Nor hide Thee from my cry;
Attend my sad complaint, and hear
My restless moan and sigh.

My enemies lift up their voice,
The violent oppress;
To do me wrong my foes rejoice,
And love my soul’s distress.

Sore pained in heart I find no ease,
Death’s terrors fill my soul,
Great fear and trembling on me seize,
And horrors o’er me roll.

O had I wings, sigh and say,
Like some swift dove to roam,
Then would I hasten far away
And find a peaceful home.

Lo, wandering far my rest should be
In some lone desert waste;
I from the stormy wind would flee,
And to a shelter haste.

O Lord, their malice recompense,
Their wicked tongues confound,
For in the city violence
And bitter strife abound.

They walk her walls both night and day,
Within all vices meet;
Oppression, fraud, and crime hold sway,
Nor leave the crowded street.

No foreign foe provokes alarm,
But enemies within;
May God destroy their power to harm
And recompense their sin.

The Psalter: with responsive readings,