Help , Lord, for godly men decay;
From mortals faith, enforced, flies:
And with their sins companions, they,
Talk of affected vanities:
Their flatt'ring tongues abound with lies;
Their double hearts bent to betray.

God shall those flatt'ring lips confound,
And tongues which swell with proud disdain:
Whose boastings arrogantly sound;
Our tongues the conquest shall obtain;
They are our own, who shall restrain?
Or to our wills prescribe a bound?

But for th' oppression of the poor,
And wretches' sighs which pierce the skies,
Who pity at His throne implore,
The Lord hath said, I will arise,
And from their foes who them despise
Deliver all that Me adore.

God's word is pure; as pure as gold
In melting furnace sev'n times tried:
His Arms for ever shall enfold
All those who in His Truth abide.
The wicked range on ev'ry side,
When vicious men the sceptre hold.