PSALM XXV.

George Burgess

Come shame on none that wait on thee,
But on the crowds that joy in ill:
Direct me thy just ways to see,
And lead me in thy perfect will.

Expecting thy deliv'ring feet,
My God, I hark from morn till eve:
Forget not thou thy mercies sweet,
Nor e'er thine ancient favour leave.

Grace is thine own; in grace forget
My rebel steps, my wand'ring youth:
Hold me in kind remembrance yet,
And lead a sinner in thy truth.

Just is the Lord; in judgment's hour
His hand shall guard th' afflicted cause:
Kind is the Lord; and kind his pow'r
Enfolds the heart that loves his laws.

Lord, for thy sake blot out my shame.
Though broad and deep its blackness be:
Mine be his lot who fears thy name,
And free and peaceful walks with thee.

No ill shall shake his household shrine;
His seed their own fair land shall hold;
On such the faithful Lord shall shine,
Till all his secret truth be told.

Patient, I keep my Lord in sight;
He from the snare my feet shall free:
Return with thy bright mercy's light,
And all my darkening troubles see.

See how my heart's sad path they crowd;
See all my foes array'd for strife:
They hate with hatred fierce and loud:
Forgive my sin; redeem my life!

Up to thy throne my hopes arise;
Thy truth and grace my shield bestow:
Waiting on thee, my spirit cries,
Redeem thine Israel, Lord, from woe!