Scripture Verse

In the Lord I take refuge. How then can you say to me: Flee like a bird to your mountain. For look, the wicked bend their bows; they set their arrows against the strings to shoot from the shadows at the upright in heart. Psalm 11:1–2

Introduction

Words: Har­ri­et Au­ber, Spir­it of the Psalms 1829, page 10.

Music: Ari­zo­na Ro­bert H. Earn­shaw, in The Book of Praise (To­ron­to, On­tar­io: Ox­ford Uni­ver­si­ty Press, 1918) (🔊 pdf nwc).

If you know where to get a good pic­ture of Earn­shaw (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),

portrait
Harriet Auber (1773–1862)

Lyrics

When all be­speaks a Fa­ther’s love,
Oh where­fore, fear­ful as the dove,
Should we in times of per­il flee
To any re­fuge, Lord, but Thee?

In vain the wick­ed bend their bow,
And seek to lay the righ­teous low;
Thou from Thine ev­er­last­ing throne
With watch­ful care re­gard’st Thine own.

Thy voice shall seal the sin­ner’s fate,
Just ven­geance shall his crimes await;
While the bright beams of grace di­vine
Shall on Thy faith­ful ser­vants shine.