Unto the voice of my complaint

1 Unto the voice of my complaint,
O God, give thou an ear;
my life save from the enemy,
of whom I stand in fear.
2 Me from their secret counsel hide
who evil-doers be;
from noisy tumult of the men
that work iniquity:

3 Who do their tongues with malice whet,
and make them cut like swords;
in whose bend bows are arrows set,
even sharp and bitter words:
4 That they may at the perfect man
in secret aim their shot:
yea, suddenly they dare at him
to shoot, and fear it not.

5 In ill encourage they themselves,
and close their snares do lay:
together conference they have;
Who shall them see? they say.
6 They have searched out iniquities,
a perfect search they keep:
of each of them the inward thought,
and heart, is very deep.

7 God shall an arrow shoot at them,
and wound them suddenly:
8 so their own tongue shall them confound;
all who them see shall fly.
9 And on all men a fear shall fall,
God's works they shall declare;
for they shall wisely notice take
what these his doings are.

10 The righteous in the Lord shall joy,
and in him trust he shall;
and they that upright are in heart
shall greatly glory all.

Source: The Irish Presbyterian Hymnbook #P64