O God, whom I de­light to praise,
To Thee my cry for help I raise;
Be Thou my friend and ad­vo­cate
When foes as­sail with bit­ter hate.

Against me slan­der­ous words are flung
From ma­ny a false and ly­ing tongue;
Without a cause men hurl at me
The shafts of dead­ly en­mi­ty.

My good with ev­il they re­pay,
My love turns not their hate away;
The part of ven­geance, Lord, is Thine;
To pray, and on­ly pray, is mine.

Since love ap­peals to him in vain,
The slave of sin let him re­main;
Against him let his foe be turned,
His sin be judged, his pray­er be spurned.

Let sud­den death up­on him break,
His of­fice let ano­ther take,
His child­ren and his wi­dowed wife
Pursue the home­less beg­gar’s life.

Let cre­dit­ors con­sume his toil
And strang­ers make his wealth their spoil;
Let none in pi­ty heed his claim;
Cut off his race, blot out his name.

His par­ents’ sins be not for­got
Till Thou from earth his me­mo­ry blot,
Since he re­mem­bered not to show
Compassion to the sons of woe.

He curs­ing loved and bless­ing loathed:
Unblest, with curs­ing he is clothed;
For thus the jus­tice of the Lord
My ad­ver­sar­ies will re­ward.

O God, the Lord, for Thy name’s sake
Let me of Thy good grace par­take;
My need is great, and great Thou art
To heal my wound­ed, strick­en heart.

With fail­ing strength I fast and pine,
Like sha­dows swift my days de­cline,
And when my foes my weak­ness see
They shake their head in scorn at me.

O Lord, my God, Thy help I crave,
In Thy great lov­ing­kind­ness save;
Before my foes Thy mer­cy show;
That Thou dost help me, make them know.

What though they curse, if Thou wilt bless?
Then joy shall ban­ish my dis­tress,
And shame shall ov­er­whelm the foes
Who would Thy ser­vant’s way op­pose.

Thanksgiving to the Lord I raise,
The mul­ti­tude shall hear my praise,
For by the needy God will stand
To save them from op­press­ion’s hand.