To Thee Alone O Sovereign Lord I Cry


To thee alone, O sov’reign Lord, I cry;
On thee alone, my gracious God, rely;
O free my soul from shame, nor let my foes
Insulting say; a vain support I chose.
No; meet not they, that wait on thee, with shame;
That love thy statutes, that revere thy name:
Be shame their destin’d lot, who thee despise;
Who trust in fraud, in villainy, in lies.
Me in life’s devious road benignly lead,
That I securely in thy paths may tread;
Shew me thy truth, and teach me, not to stray;
Thy strength my trust, thy pow’rful word my stay.
Remember, Lord, (nor be thy servant bold)
Thy mercies and thy clemencies of old;
But ah! remember not my youthful crimes,
The faults and follies of my wilder times,
When passion’s lure had led my heart away;
And from thy sacred laws I dar’d to stray;
These, Lord, remember not; let mercy plead,
And bid thy goodness to thy wrath succeed,
Benign art thou, and when, all-clement God,
Vile man repents, thou point’st the heavenly road.
The meek, the modest, thy assistance prove,
Follow the right, nor in blind error rove:
Their kind director thou, who love thy law,
And keep thy statutes with religious awe,
From sin, from sorrow, shall they walk exempt,
No griefs shall touch them, and no passions tempt.
That I may then to after-times proclaim,
To regions most remote, thy facred name,
Great tho’ they be, my num’rous sins forgive,
And in thy mercy let thy David live.
O happy they, who’re govern’d by thy fear!
To help them on to truth, thou’rt always near;
Their souls with affluence and with peace to bless;
Their sons to crown with glory and success;
To them thy sacred mysteries to reveal,
The secret counsels of thy will to tell.
Therefore my tearful eyes I raise to thee;
Rest all my hopes upon thy clemency;
‘Tis thou alone canst clear me from the net
My cruel foes have laid, t’ ensnare my feet.
O turn thee to me, and thy mercy shew;
For deep I’m sunk in wretchedness, in woe;
Incessant griefs my harrast soul distress;
O hear me, and restore my wonted peace:
With eyes of pity my sad anguish view;
Nor let thy vengeance still my crimes pursue.
Great are my foes, their malice greater still,
And from their ceaseless hate what pangs I feel?
No more their sport, their laughter, let me be,
But spare me, save me, for I trust in thee.
On thy integrity I’ll yet rely,
And sure thy goodness will not let me die:
No; gracious God, thy mercy thou’lt display,
And free the pious tribes, who thee obey.