Poems (Toke)/Psalm III

​
PSALM III.
LORD, how are they increased now, That flock around to trouble me!Many there be that 'gainst me rise, And say, "God has no help for thee."
But Thou, O Lord, art still to me A shield from every venomed dart;Thou art my glory, and 'tis Thou That liftest up my trembling heart.
To God I cried with mournful voice, He heard me from His holy hill:I laid me down and slept in peace, I woke, for He sustained me still.
I will not fear ten thousand foes, That threatening gather round my path:Up, Lord, and help me, O my God, Thine arm shall smite them down in wrath.
Yea, Thou, with Thine Almighty power, Hast made the guilty nations bow;To Thee salvation still belongs, Thy blessing for Thy people now.
E.

January 13, 1839.

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.