Pause

My watchful enemies combine To tempt my feet astray; They flatter with a base design To make my soul their prey.

Lord, crush the serpent in the dust, And all his plots destroy; While those that in thy mercy trust For ever shout for joy.

The men that love and fear thy name Shall see their hopes fulfill'd; The mighty God will compass them With favour as a shield.

Psalm 6:1. C. M. Complaint in sickness; or, diseases healed.

In anger, Lord, rebuke me not, Withdraw the dreadful storm; Nor let thy fury grow so hot Against a feeble worm.

My soul's bow'd down with heavy cares, My flesh with pain oppress'd; My couch is witness to my tears, My tears forbid my rest.

Sorrow and pain wear out my days; I waste the night with cries, Counting the minutes as they pass, Till the slow morning rise.

Shall I be still tormented more? Mine eye consum'd with grief? How long, my God, how long before Thine hand afford relief?

He hears when dust and ashes speak, He pities all our groans, He saves us for his mercy's sake And heals our broken bones.

The virtue of his sovereign word Restores our fainting breath; For silent graves praise not the Lord, Nor is he known in death.

Psalm 6:2. L. M. Temptations in sickness overcome.

Lord, I can suffer thy rebukes, When thou with kindness dost chastise But thy fierce wrath I cannot bear, O let it not against me rise!

Pity my languishing estate, And ease the sorrows that I feel; The wounds thine heavy hand hath made, O let thy gentler touches heal.

See how I pass my weary days In sighs and groans; and when 'tis night My bed is water'd with my tears; My grief consumes and dims my sight.

Look how the powers of nature mourn! How long, almighty God, how long? When shall thine hour of grace return? When shall I make thy grace my song?

I feel my flesh so near the grave, My thoughts are tempted to despair; But graves can never praise the Lord, For all is dust and silence there.

Depart, ye tempters, from my soul, And all despairing thoughts depart; My God, who hears my humble moan, Will ease my flesh, and cheer my heart.

Psalm 7. God's care of his people and punishment of persecutors.

My trust is in my heavenly Friend, My hope in thee, my God; Rise and my helpless life defend From those that seek my blood.

With insolence and fury they My soul in pieces tear, As hungry lions rend the prey When no deliverer's near.

If I had e'er provok'd them first, Or once abus'd my foe, Then let him tread my life to dust, And lay mine honour low.

If there be malice found in me, I know thy piercing eyes; I should not dare appeal to thee, Nor ask my God to rise.

Arise, my God, lift up thy hand, Their pride and power control; Awake to judgment and command Deliverance for my soul.