1 In deep Distress I oft have cry'd
To GOD, who never yet deny'd,
To rescue me, oppress'd with Wrongs;
Once more, O LORD, Deliv'rance sned,
From lying Lips my Soul defend,
And from the Rage of sland'ring Tongues;
Which daily strive to wound my Fame,
And blest the Credit of my Name.
3 What little Profit can accrue,
And yet, what heavy Wrath is due,
O thou perfidious Tongue, to thee?
Thy Sting upon thyself shall turn;
Of lasting Flames, that fiercely burn,
The constant Fuel thou shalt be:
Thus shall the Vengeance of the LORD
Thy Torment be and dread Reward.
3 But O! how wretched is my Doom,
Who am a Sojourner become,
In barren Mesech's desart Soil!
With Kedar's wicked Tents inclos'd,
To lawless Savages expos'd,
Who live on nought but Theft and Spoil:
Oh, when shall I Deliv'rance find,
From such as grieve my troubled Mind!
4 My hapless Dwelling is with those,
Who Peace and Amity oppose,
And Pleasure take in others Harms:
Sweet Peace is all I court and seek;
But when to them of Peace I speak,
They straight cry out, to Arms, to Arms.
My Soul is overwhelm'd with Care,
Whilst for the Battle they prepare.
Source: The Psalms of David: with the Ten Commandments, Creed, Lord's Prayer, &c. in metre...for the use of the Reformed Protestant Dutch church of the city of New York #CXX