Classic Poem

Part I.

L ORD , to my pray'rs incline Thine ear,
Th' afflicted hear.
Nor be Thou deaf to my complaint,
For O, I faint!
Regard the sighs, the groans, the cries,
Which from my pensive soul arise.

Rais'd by the threat'nings of my foe,
Which storm-like grow,
And by bloodthirsty violence,
Truth my offence.
Who slander with their wounding tongues,
And press me unto death with wrongs.

My heart, a stranger unto rest,
Throbs in my breast.
The terrors of approaching death
Exhaust my breath.
My sinews trembling fear dissolves,
And horror all my pow'rs involves.

O that with dove-like wings I might
Take my swift flight
To calm retreats of rest, where I
Conceal'd might lie!
Then would I find some wilderness,
Removed far from man's access.

Then all these tempests, which arise
With hideous noise,
And with their dreadful tumults make
My heart to quake,
I would, far swifter than the wind,
Or winged lightnings, leave behind.

Part II.

Lord, swallow those who swell with pride;
Their tongues divide.
For strife and violence, bent to kill,
The city fill.
Both day and night they walk the round;
Rape, mischief, tears, within abound.

Wild outrages her streets profane,
And boldly reign.
Fraud, lurking in her palaces,
Conspires with these.
For I, had he his hate profest,
Had shunn'd, or should his wrongs digest.

But thou, my friend, ev'n of my heart
The better part;
To so entire a union grown,
As if but one;
God's House we daily visited,
Both sweetly by one counsel led.

Let death devour them; let them dive
To hell alive.
With mischief their proud roofs abound,
Their hearts unsound.
But God my soul shall dis-enthrall,
For I upon His Name will call.

Part III.

My pray'rs shall with the sun's uprise
Ascend the skies;
Renew'd, when he at noon displays
His fervent rays,
When he behind the earth descends,
And day, out-worn with labour, ends.

My cries shall penetrate the spheres,
And pierce His ears.
He shall my captive soul release,
And crown with peace.
For in the fervour of the fight
His angels shall protect my right.

Th' eternal Judge, Jehovah, shall
Confound them all,
Who only change from bad to worse,
Nor fear His curse.
Sweet peace he violated hath,
And broken his obliged faith.

His words than butter smoother far,
His thoughts of war,
Words softer than the fluent oil,
Yet bent to spoil.
But thou, my soul, thy cares impose
On God, Who will redress thy woes.

The just He shall confirm with joy,
Th' unjust destroy.
Those who in blood and fraud delight
Shall set in night,
Before their noon of life be past.
But I on God my hopes have plac'd.