Psalm 39

Abraham Coles

2 And I was dumb, I held my peace,
I uttered not a word,
Abstained from even proper speech —
Then was my sorrow stirred;

3 My heart was hot within; the fire
While I was musing, burned;
Then spake I with my tongue once more
Of what me most concerned.

4 Make me to know my end, O Lord!
The measure of my days;
That I may know how frail I am.
How fatal my delays.

5 Behold my days as handbreadths are,
So brief are they and few;
My life is naught — a bubble I
And bubbles I pursue.

6 Man at his best, when standing firm.
In truth is but a breath;
He heaps up gold with restless toil
For unknown heirs at death.

7 And now, what wait I for, O Lord?
My hope is all in Thee;
8 O make me riot the sceptic's scorn;
From my transgressions free.

9 Because Thou didst it, I was dumb,
I opened not my mouth:
10 Remove Thy stroke away from me,
That parches likes a drouth.

11 When Thou with just rebukes dost man
For his misdeeds correct;
Thou spoil'st his beauty as a moth,
And turn'st away respect.

12 Hear Thou my prayer for help, O God!
Reply to tears I pour:
13 Let me recover strength, ere I
Go hence and be no more!