Book of Psalms
PSALM LXIII.
George Burgess
O God, my God, with morning's beam
To thee my thirsty spirit flies:
From wastes where glides no cooling streams
For thee my panting bosom cries.
As I have seen, oh, might I see
Thy glory in thy holy place;
And sing, more dear than life to me,
The beams of thy celestial grace.
My joyous lips shall speak thy praise,
Till life's last breath in praise have ceas'd;
My hands in thy great name I raise,
And on thy love my spirit feast.
On my still couch at midnight laid,
I muse on thee, each wakeful hour;
And bless thy wing's protecting shade,
Since I have known my Guardian's pow'r.
Fast to thy step my soul shall cleave,
And thy right hand shall hold me fast,
When they who snares and ruin weave
To death's dark caves have downward pass'd.
The sword and fox shall drink their gore;
The liars' lips shall close in shame;
But high in God my song shall soar
Amid the hosts that lov'd thy name.
Authors:
Psalms:
Poetry of the Psalms
The "Poetry of the Psalms" is a collection of poems expressing the struggles, fears, anger, joy and love revealed in the Psalms of the Bible. They were written over hundreds of years by various authors, including Isaac Watts, Charles Wesley, George Burgess, Charles Spurgeon, Abraham Coles, Augustus Toplady, Tate and Brady.
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