Classic Poem

PSALM LIX.

From foes, that round us rise,
O G OD of heaven, defend,
Who brave the vengeance of the skies,
And with thy saints contend.

Behold, from distant shores,
And desert wilds they come,
Combine for blood their barbarous force,
And through thy cities roam.

Beneath the silent shade,
Their secret plots they lay,
Our peaceful walls by nigh: invade,
And waste the fields by day.

And will the G OD of grace,
Regardless of our pain,
Permit secure that impious race,
To riot in their reign

In vain their secret guile,
Or open force they prove;
His eye can pierce the deepest veil,
His hand their strength remove.

Yet save them, Lord, from death,
Lest we forget their doom;
But drive them with thine angry breath,
Through distant lands to roam.

Then shall our grateful voice
Proclaim our guardian G OD ;
The nations round the earth rejoice,
And sound the praise abroad.