Classic Poem

O God, with gracious ears receive
My fervent vows in Christ addrest,
Nor take thyself away to leave
Thy supplicant unblest.

Observe my melancholy state,
My pangs let consolation ease,
And this vexatious grief abate
While thus I bend my knees.

So loud opposers shout and throng,
So near the wicked bands are seen;
For they are bent to do me wrong,
Their malice is so keen;

My heart within me is dismay'd,
And thoughts relating to my end,
My firmness into fear degrade,
And all my pow'rs suspend.

A shudd'ring terror takes my limbs,
And horrid visions fill my head;
My brain with wild confusion swims,
And overwhelming dread.

And oh! that I had wings, I cry'd,
To bear me ballanc'd as the dove;
Then would I to those regions glide
Where dwells the peace I love.

Lo! then would I my course betake
Till distance bold attempt defeat,
And to some friendly covert make
In solitude's retreat

I would my flight's direction shape,
Myself in safety to embow'r,
Before th' imprison'd winds escape,
And skies tempestuous low'r.

O Lord, the busy tongues confound,
And their malevolence destroy;
For wickedness and strife abound,
And all our streets annoy

Idlers by day and night patrole,
And through the worst uncleanness wade;
There dwells anxiety of soul,
There mischief is a trade.

All love is froze within the walls
And licens'd lust and envy burn,
And force attacks and guile enthralls
Which way soe'er we turn.

For it was not a foe in mail
That this extream dishonour dar'd,
To such I had been without fail
Both patient and prepar'd.

Nor was it secret spite that wrought
This odious deed of publick shame,
For so by pray'r I might have sought
A cover from it's aim.

But it was even Thou, a part
Of David, and his soul's resource;
The dear companion of his heart
In all his painful course!

The mutual commerce of the mind
In sweetness we were wont to share,
And at the house of God we join'd
The work of common pray'r.

But let not sudden death surprize,
And send them quick into the pit;
Though in their dwellings are the cries
Of horrors they commit.

For me and for my seed I speak,
We will to Christ our God appeal,
And he shall hear and raise the meek,
And their salvation seal.

At morning and at evening song,
And constant at the hour of noon,
I will my stated pray'r prolong,
And God shall grant my boon.

'Tis God alone that has restor'd
My peace, and my redemption won;
Nor is it numbers or the sword
That such a deed has done.

Yea, God on his eternal throne,
Thro' Christ shall hear me and forgive,
Whose words shall melt the hearts of stone
That they may turn and live

The hands of violent assault
He laid on inoffensive folk,
From his own league he made revolt,
His own agreement broke.

His speech as melting butter smooth
With hostile heart the flatt'rer fram'd,
His oily words he tun'd to sooth
Whence secret darts were aim'd.

O cast thy heavy lading down,
And Christ himself shall give thee rest,
The proud shall not for ever frown
Upon the poor opprest.

And as for them, the Lord shall shock
Their pride with a tremendous blow,
When Christ, our meritorious rock,
Shall try his friend and foe.

Short is the reign, and dread the blast
Of bloody men by guile deprav'd,
But persevering to the last
In Christ my soul is sav'd.