Psalm 41

Abraham Coles

2 The Lord will in the evil day
Deliver such, and keep alive;
He'll prosper him and turn away
The ruin that his foes contrive:
3 Stretched on his couch will stay his head.
And in his sickness make his bed.

4 Have mercy on me, Lord, I said,
Heal Thou my soul, for I have sinned:
5 My foes speak evil, wish me dead:
6 Visits he me? My ears are dinned
With falsehood. He employs his wit
To frame a lie, then blazons it.

7 Gather in knots all who me hate;
Malicious whispers go around;
They feign much grief, calumniate,
And try which can the deepest wound:
8 There clings, say they, some evil thing
To him that will to death soon bring.

9 My trusted own familiar friend,
Who ate my bread, has lifted up
His heel against me — to same end
Held to my lips a poisoned cup:
In secret played a traitor's part,
With stabs directed at my heart.

10 Be gracious. Lord, and me restore,
That I may properly requite;
11 Because my foe's short triumph's o'er,
I know Thou dost in me delight,
12 In my integrity dost place
Me evermore before Thy face.

13 O blessed and thrice blessed be,
Jehovah, God of Israel!
Whose dwelling is eternity,
Whose being is perpetual —
From everlasting it begun —
To everlasting it will run.
Amen and Amen.