To Thee For Succour In Distress


To thee, for succor, in distress,
I lift my longing eyes;
Oh! thou omnipotent, supreme!
Who dwell’st above the skies.
As servants, eye their master’s hand,
Their mistresses; the maids;
So to the Lord, our God, we look,
For his reviving aids.

Have mercy upon us, O Lord,
Oh! pity to us show;
For loaded with most base contempt,
We feel the depth of woe.
From those that live at ease, our soul
Is greatly filled with scorn;
And the vile insult of the proud,
We heavily have borne.

A New Version of the Psalms of David,