Classic Poem

To Thee, O God, my God, I pray
Before the dawning of the day.
My soul and wasting flesh
With thirsty ardour Thee desire,
In soils scorch'd with aetherial fire,
Whose drought no show'rs refresh.

That in Thy sanctuary I
May see Thy pow'r and majesty
Once more with ravish'd eyes.
My lips shall celebrate Thy praise,
Thy goodness more than length of days
Or life itself I prize.

Extoll'd while I have utterance,
To Thee will I my palms advance,
That wilt with marrow feast.
My verse Thy wonders shall recite,
Remember'd in the silent night,
As on my bed I rest.

Secur'd beneath Thy shady wing,
I will in sacred raptures sing,
And to Thy promise cleave.
Thy Hand upholds; but who with hate
My soul seek to precipitate
Hell's entrails shall receive.

The raging sword shall shed their blood,
A prey for wolves, for foxes food.
Yet God His king shall bless,
And such as swear by His great Name;
But those whose tongues the just defame
Confusion shall suppress.