4. O Lord, my Troublers great are grown

1. O Lord, my Troublers great are grown.
And many up against me rise,
2. They say, his Soul is left alone.
And God all Help to him denies.
3. But thou, Lord, art a Shield to me,
And thy Defence is round me spread;
Thou art my Glory; I shall see
Thee high, in Honour, raise my Head.

4. When, heretofore, my humble Pray'r
To God I made, in like Distress,
He, from his holy Hill, did hear
My Voice, and all my Fears suppress.
5. I then could lay me down, and take
My quiet Sleep, secure by Night;
And in the Morning safe awake,
O Lord, supported by thy Might.

6. Why should I then, be now afraid;
Or of thy timely Help despair?
Tho', round encamp'd about me, laid,
Ten Thousands of the People are.
7. Now rise, O Lord, my God, me save;
For all my Foes have felt thy Stroak
Full in the Face; and by Thee have
The Teeth of wicked Men been broke.

8. Salvation to the Lord alone.
As his peculiar Right, pertains;
On those thou chusest for thine own.
Thy Blessing ever sure remains.

Text Information
First Line: O Lord, my Troublers great are grown
Language: English
Publication Date: 1752
Scripture:
Tune Information
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