THE PSALMS of DAVID, PSALM CXLIII

Hear, Lord, my Pray'r, to my Request, Let thy kind Ear attend; And in thy Truth, and Righteousness, A gracious Answer send. Let not thy Servant, by strict Rules, Of Justice, Lord, be try'd; For in thy Sight, no Man alive, Could so be justify'd. The Foe pursu'd my Soul, my Life Down to the Ground did tread, In Darkness made to dwell, as those That Ages have been dead. Therefore my Spirit sinks in me; My Heart is desolate. Past Times I call to Mind, and on Thy Works I meditate. With out stretch'd Hands, thine Aid I crave; For Thee my Soul doth pant, As thirsty Lands, in Summer's Heat, That cooling Showers want.