To my just plea, and sad complaint (Tate and Brady)

Verse 1

To my just plea, and sad complaint attend, O righteous Lord; And to my pray'r, as 'tis unfeign'd, a gracious ear afford.

Verse 2

As in thy sight I am approv'd, so let my sentence be; And with impartial eyes, O Lord, my upright dealing see.

Verse 3

For thou hast search'd my heart by day, and visited by night; And, on the strictest trial, found in secret motions right. Nor shall thy justice, Lord, alone my heart's designs acquit; For I have purpos'd that my tongue shall no offence commit.

Verse 4

I know what wicked men would do, their safety to maintain; But me thy just and mild commands from bloody paths restrain

Verse 5

That I may still, in spite of wrongs, my innocence secure, O guide me in thy righteous ways, and make my footsteps sure.

Verse 6

Since, heretofore, I ne'er in vain to thee my pray'r address'd; O! now, my god, incline thine ear to this my just request.

Verse 7

The wonders of thy truth and love in my defence engage; Thou, whose right hand preserves thy saints From their oppressor's rage.

Verse 8

O! keep me in thy tend'rest care; thy shelt'ring wings stretch out, To guard me safe from savage foes, that compass me about;

Verse 9

O'ergrown with Luxury, inclos'd in their own fat they lie; And, with a proud blaspheming mouth both God and man defy.

Verse 10

Well may they boast, for they have now my paths encompass'd round; Their eyes at watch, their bodies bow'd, and couching on the ground.

Verse 11

In posture of a lion set, when greedy of his prey; Or a young lion, when he lurks within a covert way.

Verse 12

Arise, O Lord, defeat their plots, their swelling rage controul: From wicked men, who are thy sword, deliver thou my soul:

Verse 13

From worldly men, thy sharpest scourge, whose portion's here below; Who fill'd with earthly stores, aspire no other bliss to know.

Verse 14

Their race is num'rous, that partake their substance while they live; Their heirs survive, to whom they may the vast remainder give.

Verse 15

But I, in uprightness, thy face shall view without controul; And, waking, shall its image find reflected in my soul.