Psalm 91 (Version 1, Part 1)

He that hath made his refuge God,

Shall find a most secure abode,

Shall walk all day beneath his shade,

And there at night shall rest his head.

Then will I say, "My God, thy power

"Shall be my fortress and my tower;

"I that am form'd of feeble dust

"Make thine almighty arm my trust."

Thrice happy man! thy Maker's care

Shall keep thee from the fowler's snare,

Satan, the fowler, who betrays

Unguarded souls a thousand ways.

Just as a hen protects her brood

From birds of prey that seek their blood,

Under her feathers, so the Lord

Makes his own arm his people's guard.

If burning beams of noon conspire

To dart a pestilential fire,

God is their life; his wings are spread

To shield them with an healthful shade.

If vapours with malignant breath

Rise thick and scatter midnight death,

Israel is safe; the poison'd air

Grows pure if Israel's God be there.

What though a thousand at thy side,

At thy right hand ten thousand dy'd,

Thy God his chosen people saves

Amongst the dead, amidst the graves.

So when he sent his angel down

To make his wrath in Egypt known,

And slew their sons, his careful eye

Pass'd all the doors of Jacob by.

But if the fire, or plague, or sword,

Receive commission from the Lord

To strike his saints among the rest,

Their very pains and deaths are blest.

The sword, the pestilence or fire

Shall but fulfil their best desire,

From sins and sorrows set them free,

And bring thy children, Lord, to thee.