003) Psalm 3
8.6.8.6.
1 How num’rous, Lord, of late are grown the troublers of my peace!
And, as their numbers hourly rise, so does their rage increase.
2 Insulting they my soul upbraid, and him whom I adore; The God in whom he trusts, say they, shall rescue him no more.
3 But thou, O Lord, art my defense; on thee my hopes rely;
Thou art my glory, and shalt yet lift up my head on high.
4 Since whensoe’er in like distress to God I made my pray’r, He heard me from his holy hill, why should I now despair?
5 Guarded by him, I laid me down my sweet repose to take; For I through him securely sleep, through him in safety wake.
6 No force nor fury of my foes my courage shall confound, Were they as many hosts as men that have beset me round.
7 Arise and save me, O my God, who oft hast owned my cause, And scattered oft these foes to me, and to thy righteous laws.
8 Salvation to the Lord belongs, he only can defend; His blessing he extends to all that on his pow’r depend.
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