Lord Hear My Prayer And To My Cry Tate

Lord, hear my Pray’r, and to my Cry
Thy wonted Audience lend;
In thy accustom’d Faith and Truth
a gracious Answer send.
Nor at thy strict Tribunal bring
thy Servant to be try’d;
For in thy Sight no living Man
can e’er be justify’d.

The spiteful Foe pursues my Life,
whose Comforts all are fled;
He drives me into Caves as dark
as Mansions of the Dead.
My Spirit therefore is o’erwhelm’d,
and sinks within my Brest;
My mournful Heart grows desolate,
with heavy Woes opprest.

I call to mind the Days of old,
and Wonders thou hast wrought:
My former Dangers and Escapes
employ my musing Thought.
To thee my Hands in humble prayer
I fervently stretch out;
My Soul for thy Refreshment thirsts,
like Land opprest with Drought.

Hear me with Speed; my Spirit fails;
thy Face no longer hide,
Lest I become forlorn, like them
that in the Grave reside.
Thy Kindness early let me hear,
whose Trust on Thee depends;
Teach me the Way where I should go:
my Soul to Thee ascends.

Do Thou, O Lord, from all my Foes
preserve, and set me free;
A safe Retreat against their Rage,
my Soul implores from Thee.
Thou art my God, thy righteous Will
instruct me to obey;
Let thy good Spirit lead and keep
my Soul in thy right Way.

O for the sake of thy great Name
revive my drooping Heart:
For thy Truth’s Sake to me distress’d,
thy promis’d Aid impart.
In Pity to my Suff’rings, Lord,
reduce my Foes to Shame;
Slay them that persecute a Soul
devoted to thy Name.