Lo How Restless Foes My Life Pursue
Lo! how my restless foes my life pursue!
With pity, Lord, th’ impending peril view;
Many are they, my ruin that desire,
And, insolently proud, my death conspire.
But, whate’er terrors compass round my heart,
Thou, thou alone my great protector art.
Thee will I praise, O God, on thee rely,
And all attempts of mortal rage defy;
Yet constant they detract from what I speak,
And, to distress me, villainously seek;
To secret places they in crouds retreat,
And there t’ ensnare my guileless soul they wait.
Shall they escape, and in their crimes go on?
Rise in thy fearful wrath, and cast them down.
My toils thou numb’rest, and thou view’st my flight;
In thy fair tablet all my tears are writ:
Assur’d I am, that when to thee I cry,
Thou wilt assist me, and my foes will fly;
Thee will I praise, O God; in thee I’ll trust,
And brave the threat’nings of imperious dust;
Sav’d by thy hand from my destructive foes,
Thee will I praise, to thee I’ll pay my vows;
For thou’lt preserve me from the dreary grave,
My tott’ring feet, that they not slip, thou’lt save;
Favour’d by thee, long life shall I enjoy;
Long to thy glory I’ll that life employ.