The heathen, Lord, thy heritage

Verse 1

The heathen, Lord, thy heritage, Did furiously invade; Defiled thy temple, and in heaps, Jerusalem have laid.

Verse 2

The bodies of thy servants slain, For meat to fowls of heaven; And thy saints flesh, to savage beasts, They cruelly have given.

Verse 3

They round about Jerusalem, Their blood, like water, shed; And none was found to pay the last Kind office to the dead.

Verse 4

Our neighbors load us with reproach, Our fame they deeply wound; We're made the very scorn, and mock Of all the nations round.

Verse 5

How long, Jehovah! shall thy wrath Against us ne'er expire? Shall thy inflamed jealousy, Burn like devouring fire?

Verse 6

On heathen tribes, who know not thee, Thy wrathful vengeance pour; On impious kingdoms, which thy name Ne'er reverence, and adore.

Verse 7

For they have greedily devoured Thy favorite Jacob's race; Their rage has utterly laid waste His ancient dwelling place.

Verse 8

Mind not against us former sins, Let tender mercy flow; Our ruin speedily prevent, We're brought exceeding low.

Verse 9

Help us, O our salvation's God, For the honor of thy name; For thy name's sake, deliver us, And purge our souls from blame.

Verse 10

Why say the heathen, "Where's their God?" Among the nations spread Thy fame, in vengeance, in our sight, For blood of saints they've shed.

Verse 11

O let, before thy face, ascend The sighing prisoner's cry; By thy great power, preserve the sons Of death, condemned to die.

Verse 12

Into their bosom seven-fold, Our neighbor's spite reward, And the reproach, wherewith they have Reproached thee, O Lord.

Verse 13

Then we thy flock, thy pasture's sheep, Will give thee thanks always; From age to age, we will show forth Our great Redeemer's praise.