PSALM VII.

George Burgess

O Lord my God, if on my hand
The stain of guilt I hide;
If I have rent the peaceful band,
Nor good for ill replied;

Then, let my foe, in righteous strife,
Pursue and hunt me down:
Then, let him trample on my life,
And lay in dust my crown.

Awake, O Lord, in wrath awake:
The strong oppressors rave:
Come, wielding for thy servant's sake,
The law thy justice gave.

So, round thy pomp, a subject train.
Shall nations gather nigh:
Then, spread so far thy conquering reign,
And rear thy throne on high.

The Lord shall judge when realms appeal:
Oh, judge and own my cause;
As thou hast known mine upright zeal,
As I have lov'd thy laws.

Oh, end the sinner's guilty might,
And let the righteous rise,
Thou righteous God, whose glance of light
The secret spirit tries.

The God of strength my shield extends,
The Saviour of the pure;
Whose just right arm the just defends,
Whose wrath is daily sure.

He steels his sword, he bends his bow.
If pride disdain to turn:
He lifts the arms of deadly blow,
And forms the shafts to burn.

Lo, deep within, each treach'rous breast
With guilt and ruin teems:
There, falsehood finds her chosen nest,
And bears deceitful dreams.

They fram'd the pit, and spread the toils;
And there their pride shall bow:
On guilt the guilty blow recoils,
And breaks the stubborn brow.

But I the righteous Lord will sing.
And all his truth adore:
To thee, my soul's Almighty King,
To thee my song shall soar.