Psalm 3

Verse 1

Lord, how my num'rous foes increase! How fast my troubles rise! To thee, the sacred spring of peace, My wearied spirit flies.

Verse 2

My num'rous foes awake my fears, While they exulting boast, "No heav'nly aid for him appears, And all his hopes are lost."

Verse 3

But thou, my glory, and my shield, Wilt all my fears controul; A strong defence thy arm shall yield, And raise my drooping soul.

Verse 4

To God I breath'd my ardent cry, He, gracious heard my pray'r; It reach'd his sacred throne on high, And he remov'd my care.

Verse 5

I laid me down and slept secure, I wak'd, for God was nigh; Sustain'd by his almighty pow'r, My guard his watchful eye.

Verse 6

What tho' ten thousand foes in arms Against me should appear; And war resound its dire alarms, I will not yield to fear.

Verse 7

Arise, O Lord, with saving pow'r In my defence engage; As oft thy potent arm before Has crush'd their impious rage.

Verse 8

Salvation, Lord, is thine alone, And all thy saints shall find The bliss my thankful heart has known, A God forever kind.