Preserve me, Lord, from crafty foes, Of treacherous intent

Verse 1

Preserve me, Lord, from crafty Foes of treacherous Intent;

Verse 2

And from the Sons of Violence, on open Mischief bent.

Verse 3

Their sland'ring Tongues the Serpent's Sting in sharpness does exceed: Between their Lips the Gall of Asps and Adders Venom breed.

Verse 4

Preserve me, Lord, from wicked Hands, nor leave my Soul forlorn, A Prey to Sons of Violence, who have my Ruin sworn.

Verse 5

The proud for me have laid their Snare, and spread their wily Net; With Traps and Gins wheree'er I move, I find my Steps beset.

Verse 6

But thus environ'd with Distress, Thou art my God I said; Lord, hear my supplicating Voice, that calls to Thee for Aid.

Verse 7

O Lord, the God whose saving Strength kind Succour did convey, And cover'd my advent'rous Head in Battle's doubtful Day;

Verse 8

Permit not their unjust Designs to answer their Desire; Lest they, encourag'd by Success, to bolder Crimes aspire.

Verse 9

Let first their Chiefs the sad Effects of their Injustice mourn; The Blast of their envenom'm Breath, upon themselves return.

Verse 10

Let them who kindled first the Flame, its Sacrifice become; The Pit they digg'd for me, be made their own untimely Tomb.

Verse 11

Tho' Slander's Breath may raise a Storm, it quickly will decay; Their Rage does but the Torrent swell, that bears themselves away.

Verse 12

God will assert the poor Man's Cause, and speedy Succour give; The Just shall celebrate his Praise, and in his Presence live.