Classic Poem

My God, Thy servant vindicate:
O plead my cause against their hate,
Who seek my utter spoil!
Deliver from the merciless,
Who with bold injuries oppress,
And prosper in their guile.

For of my strength Thou art the Lord,
Why like to one by Thee abhorr'd
Dost Thou my soul expose?
Why wander I in black array'd,
My body worn, my mind dismay'd,
Pursu'd by cruel foes?

Thy favour and Thy truth extend,
Let them into my soul descend,
Conducted by their light,
Conducted to Thy holy hill
And house, blest with Thy presence still,
There to enjoy Thy sight.

Then will I to Thy altar bring
An acceptable offering,
That dost such joys afford;
There on a tuneful instrument,
With songs that join in sweet consent,
Thy sacred praise record.

My soul, why art thou so deprest?
Why, O, thus troubled in my breast?
Sunk underneath thy load;
With constant hope on God await;
For I His Name shall celebrate,
My Saviour and my God.