In deep distress I oft have cried

1 In deep distress I oft have cry'd
To God, who never yet deny'd
to rescue me oppress'd with wrongs;
2 Once more, O Lord, deliv'rance send,
From lying lips my soul defend,
and from the Rage of sland'ring tongues.

3 What little profit can accrue,
And yet what heavy wrath is due,
O thou perfidious tongue, to thee!
4 Thy sting upon thyself shall turn;
Of lasting flames that fiercely burn,
the constant fuel thou shalt be.

5 But, O! how wretched is my doom,
Who am a sojourner become
in barren Mesech's desert soil!
With Kedar's wicked tents inclos'd,
To lawless savages expos'd,
who live on nought but theft and spoil.

6 My hapless dwelling is with those,
Who peace and amity oppose,
and pleasure take in others harms:
7 Sweet peace is all I court and seek;
But when to them of peace I speak,
they straight cry out, To Arms, to Arms.

Source: The Whole Book of Psalms: in metre; with hymns suited to the feasts and fasts of the church, and other occasions of public worship #CXX