Lord how many are my foes, How many those That in arms against me rise. Many are they That of my life distrustfully thus say, No help for him in God there lies. But thou Lord art my shield, my glory; Thee through my story Th' exalter of my head I count; Aloud I cried Unto Jehovah; he full soon replied And heard me from his holy mount. I lay and slept, I walked again, For my sustain Was the Lord. Of many millions The populous rout I fear not though encamping round about They pitch against me their pavilions. Rise Lord, save me my God for thou Hast smote ere now On the cheek-bone all my foes, Of men abhorred Hast broke the teeth. This help was from the Lord; Thy blessing on thy people flows. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE IMPERCIPIENT (AT A CATHEDRAL SERVICE) by THOMAS HARDY THE TALENTED MAN by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED THE CONQUERED BANNER by ABRAM JOSEPH RYAN PENETRALIA by ELFRIDA DE RENNE BARROW A NIGHT FANCY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE PREPARATION by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN TO MRS. LEIGH UPON HER WEDDING DAY by GEORGE CANNING AN ELEGY ON THE LADY PEN; SENT TO MY MISTRESS OUT OF FRANCE by THOMAS CAREW |