Classic Poem

O Rescue me, thou God of all,
As foes against my life conspire,
That follow the command of Saul
For hatred and for hire

Preserve me from the bands expert
In vice and vengeance from the first,
That still procure their neighbour's hurt,
As for their blood they thirst.

For lo! with treach'rous sword and spear
Their lawless bands my soul assault;
A mighty force—while I am clear
Of all offence or fault

Without my fault themselves they arm,
From post to post they pitch their tents;
Arise and shield my steps from harm,
Thou Lord of all events.

O God of all the hosts above,
Stand up thou Lord of Jacob's might;
Let not the ballance of thy love
Be for the sons of spite.

These fugitives from God to sin,
At ev'ning's dubious light one meets,
As dogs without a master grin,
And quest along the streets.

Behold! their fawning lips abound
With oil, and yet conceal a dart;
For “who is he whose skill can sound
The language of our heart?”

But thou, Lord Jesus, shall deride,
And keep them from the depths they seek;
By winning souls from worldly pride,
And making boasters meek.

The strength by which such ills I bear,
O God, I will ascribe to thee;
For to thy succour I repair,
And for my refuge flee.

To me his grace the Lord bestows
In measure, and shall make me blest,
By his converting of my foes,
Which is my soul's request.

Lord, slay them not amidst their crimes,
But as examples of remorse
To vicious manners, evil times,
Their alter'd lives enforce.

For now their lips shall not offend
With words indecent and uncouth;
Their pride they shall by pray'r amend,
And preach of peace and truth.

Let them be spar'd till fury cools,
Whene'er thy vengeful bolts are hurl'd;
And know that 'tis the Lord that rules,
All Israel and the world.

Returning then to God from sin,
They'll haunt no more their usual beats,
As dogs without a master grin,
And quest along the streets.

No more they will their neighbours judge,
And seek for craving malice food,
Nor in their conversation grudge,
If Christian love intrude.

For me, I will my praise commence
To bless thy love at morning's dawn,
And pow'r, which has been my defence
When other help was gone.

To thee, O God, I sing, the goal
And blest supporter of my race;
Thou art the bosom of my soul,
And refuge from disgrace.