Classic Poem

Not in Thy wrath against me rise,
Nor in Thy fury, Lord, chastise:
Thy arrows wound,
Nail to the ground,
Thy Hand upon me lies.

No limb from pain and anguish free,
Because I have incensed Thee:
Nor rest can take,
My bones so ache,
Such sin abounds in me.

Like billows they my head transcend;
Beneath their heavy load I bend;
My ulcers swell,
Corrupt and smell;
Of folly the sad end.

Perplex'd in mind I pine away,
And mourning waste the tedious day;
My flesh no more
Than all one sore;
All parts at once decay.

Much broken, all my strength o'erthrown,
Through anguish of my soul I groan.
Lord, Thou dost see
My thoughts and me;
My sighs to Thee are known.

My sad heart pants, my nerves relent,
My sight grows dim; and to augment
My miseries,
All my allies
And friends themselves absent.

Part II.

Who seek my life their snares extend,
Their wicked thoughts on mischief bend,
Calumniate,
And lie in wait
To bring me to my end.

But I as deaf to them appear,
As mute as if I tongueless were:
My passion rul'd,
Like one that could
At all not speak nor hear.

Because my hopes on Thee rely,
My God, I said, O hear my cry,
Lest they should boast
Who hate me most,
And in my ruin joy.

For O! I droop, with-struggling spent,
My thoughts are on my sorrows bent.
My sins' excess
I will confess;
In show'rs of tears repent.

My foes are full of strength and pride;
Who causeless hate are multiplied;
Who good with ill
Repay, would kill,
Because I just abide.

Depart not, Lord! O, pity take!
Nor me in my extremes forsake!
Salvation
Is Thine alone;
Haste to my succour make.