1 Protect me from my cruel foes,
and shield me, Lord, from harm,
Because my trust I still repose
on thy Almighty arm.
2 My soul all help but thine does slight,
all gods but thee disown;
Yet can no deeds of mine requite
the goodness thou has shown.
3 But those that strictly virtuous are,
and love the thing that's right,
To favor always and prefer
shall be my chief delight.
4 How shall their sorrows be increased,
who other gods adore?
Their bloody off'rings I detest,
their very names abhor.
5 My lot is fall'n in that blest land
where God is truly known;
He fills my cup with lib'ral hand;
'tis he supports my throne.
6 In nature's most delightful scene
my happy portion lies;
The place of my appointed reign
all other lands out-vies.
7 Therefore my soul shall bless the Lord,
whose precepts give me light,
And private counsel still afford
In sorrow's dismal night.
8 I strive each action to approve
to his all-seeing eye;
No dangers shall my hopes remove,
because he still is nigh.
9 Therefore my heart all grief defies,
my glory does rejoice;
My flesh shall rest in hope to rise,
waked by his pow'rful voice.
10 Thou, Lord, when I resign my breath,
my soul from hell shall free;
Nor let thy Holy One in death
the least corruption see.
11 Thou shall the paths of life display,
that to thy presence lead;
Where pleasures dwell without allay,
and joys that never fade.