While foes assail'd me round, I bravely said

Verse 1

While foes assail'd me round, I bravely said, Not by the tongue I'd be to crime betray'd; My tongue to bridle, firmly I decreed, As by the bitted rein is rul'd the steed.

Verse 2

Strict silence then I kept, tho' great the pain, And e'en from just complaints did long refrain.

Verse 3

But as more fiercely burns the flame confin'd, With stronger rage was fir'd my troubled mind; Thro' all restraint at length my anguish broke, And in these 'plaining terms to heav'n I spoke:

Verse 4

"How long, O God, must I endure the strife? "What bounds are set to this my wearied life? "O tell the stated number of my days; "When end my sorrows; when begins my peace? "When wings my soul to heav'n? when leaves behind "This house of clay, ah! too, too long confin'd?

Verse 5

"A very span is life, compar'd with thee; "Our years weigh nothing with eternity; "Swift as an empty shade, they fleet away, "And our best state's the phantom of a day,

Verse 6

"Our blooming hopes one sudden blast destroys, "Pall'd are our pleasures, transient are our joys; "Vain all our cares, and all our labours vain, "With tedious toil our mining stores we gain, "Heap up our wealth, to leave it, when we're gone, "To whom?--to heirs alas! to us unknown.

Verse 7

"Where then, O gracious God, shall I apply? "To thee, O Lord; I on thy pow'r rely.

Verse 8

"O free me from th' occasion of my woes, "My wicked crimes, from whence my evils rose; "Nor leave me in my miseries forlorn, "To fools, to sinners, a reproach, a scorn.

Verse 9

"When griefs surrounded me, I silence kept, "Spoke not my 'plainings, but in secret wept; "For them the punishments of sin I knew, "The woes that to my countless crimes were due.

Verse 10

"But now, O Lord, the bitter stroke remove; "Too weak to bear the killing pang I prove.

Verse 11

"Dost thou the wicked for their sins chastise? "Fails all their strength, and all their beauty dies; "Like garments fretted by the moth away, "They fade, they pine, they wither, they decay.

Verse 12

"Then pitying hear, all-clement God, my cry, "Nor from my pleading tears avert thy eye: "A stranger here, a sojourner I am; "As strangers, hither all my fathers came; "Had here no certain, no abiding place; "But ran a short, a momentary race.

Verse 13

"Yet spare me still awhile; thy hand restrain; "Let my tir'd soul some little respite gain, "Her strength retrieve, recruit her languid pow'r, "'Fore I go hence, and shall be seen no more."