1 LORD, hear the Voice of my Complaint,
And to my humble Pray'r give Ear;
Preserve my Life from cruel Foes,
And free my troubled Soul from Fear;
Hide me in some secure Retreat;
The Plots of all my Foes defeat.

2 See how, intent to work my Harm,
They whet their Tongues like sharpen'd Swords,
And bend their Bows to shoot their Darts,
Destructive Lies, and bitter Words:
In secret, void of Fear and Shame,
They at the Just direct their Aim.

3 To carry on their ill Designs,
In frequent Councils they agree;
They speak of laying private Snares,
And vainly think that none shall see:
With Care their wicked Plots they lay;
Their Hearts designing to betray.

4 But GOD, to Anger justly mov'd,
His dreadful Bows shall surely bend;
And on his flying Arrow's Point
Against them swift Destruction send:
Their Slander on themselves shall fall,
And they be scorn'd and shunn'd by all.

5 The World shall then GOD's Pow'r confess,
And frighten'd Nations trembling stand;
Convinc'd that 'tis the mighty Work,
Of his uprais'd avenging Hand:
For they shall see his Pow'r, and own
That he is GOD supreme alone.

6 Whilst righteous Men whom he secures,
Shall in his Mercy gladly trust;
and all the list'nign Earth shall hear,
The glorious Triumphs of the Just;
The true of heart shall bless his Name,
And to the world their Joy proclaim.