Church Hymn Book ‎#P.XCI.II

P.XCI.II. Ye sons of men, a feeble race

11 Ye sons of men, a feeble race,
Expos'd to ev'ry snare,
Come make the Lord your dwelling place,
And try and trust his care.

12 No ill shall enter where you dwell;
Or if the plague come nigh,
And sweep the wicked down to hell,
'Twill raise the saints on high.

13 He'll give his angels charge to keep
Your feet in all their ways;
To watch your pillow while you sleep,
And guard your happy days.

14 Their hands shall bear you lest you fall
And dash against the stones;
Are they not servants at his call,
And sent t'attend his sons?

15 Adders and lions ye shall tread;
The tempter's wiles defeat"
He that hath bruis'd the serpent's head
Puts him beneath your feet.

16 "Because on me they set their love,
I'll save them saith the Lord:
I'll bear their joyful souls above,
Destruction and the sword.

17 My grace shall answer when they call,
In trouble I'll be nigh;
My pow'r shall help them when they fall,
And raise them when they die.

18 Those that on earth my name have known,
I'll honour them in heav'n;
There my salvation shall be shown,
And endless life be giv'n."

Text Information

• First Line: Ye sons of men, a feeble race
• Meter: C. M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1816
• Scripture:
  Psalm 91:11-16
• Topic: Protection from Death, Guard of Angels, Victory and Deliverance

Tune Information

(No tune information)