1 O God! to whom revenge belongs,
Proclaim thy wrath aloud;
Let sov'reign pow'r redress our wrongs,
Let justice smite the proud.
2 They say, "The Lord nor sees nor hears;"
When will the vain be wise?
Can he be deaf who form'd their ears?
Or blind, who made their eyes?
3 He knows their impious thoughts are vain,
And they shall feel his pow'r:
His wrath shall pierce their souls with pain
In some surprising hour.
4 But if thy saints deserve rebuke,
Thou hast a gentler rod;
Thy providence, thy sacred book,
Shall make them know their God.
5 Blest is the man thy hands chastise,
And to his duty draw;
Thy scourges make thy children wise
When they forget thy law.
6 But God will ne’er cast off his saints,
Nor his own promise break;
He pardons his inheritance
For their Redeemer’s sake.
Part II.
7 Who will arise and plead my right
Against my num'rous foes?
While earth and hell their force unite,
And all my hopes oppose.
8 Had not the Lord, my rock, my help,
Sustain'd my fainting head,
My life had now in silence dwelt,
My soul amongst the dead.
9 Alas! my sliding feet! I cry'd,
Thy promise bore me up;
Thy grace stood constant by my side,
And rais'd my sinking hope.
10 While multitudes of mournful thoughts
Within my bosom roll,
Thy boundless love forgives my faults,
Thy comforts cheer my soul.
11 Pow'rs of iniquity may rise,
And frame pernicious laws;
But God my refuge rules the skies,
He will defend my cause.
12 Let malice vent her rage aloud,
Let bold blasphemers scoff;
The Lord our God shall judge the proud,
And cut the sinners off.
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