To Thee, Lord, my cry I send. On my strength stop not Thine ear, Lest, if answer Thou forbear, I be like them that descend To the pit where flesh doth end. Therefore while that I may cry, While I that way hold my hands Where Thy sanctuary stands, To Thyself those words apply Which from suing voice do fly. Link not me in selfsame chain With the wicked working folk Who, their spotted thoughts to cloak, Neighbors friendly entertain When in hearts they malice mean. Spare not them, give them reward As their deeds have purchased it, As deserves their wicked wit; Fare they as their hands have fared, Even so be their guerdon shared. To Thy works they give no eye. Let them be thrown down by Thee; Let them not restored be; But let me give praises high To the Lord that hears my cry. That God is my strength, my shield; All my trust on Him was set; And, so I did safety get, So shall I with joy be filled, So my songs His lauds shall yield. God on them His strength doth lay Who His anointed helped have. Lord then still Thy people save, Bless Thine heritage I say, Feed and lift them up for aye. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LEE TO THE REAR [MAY 12, 1864] by JOHN REUBEN THOMPSON THE DESTINY OF GENIUS by MARIA ABDY THE SULTANA by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH RAIN ON FALL NIGHTS by MILDRED TELFORD BARNWELL THE ANCIENTS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET KING EDWARD VII by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB THE WEST WIND by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT |