Psalm 142 (Tate & Brady)

1 To God, with mournful voice,

in deep distress I prayed;

2 Made him the umpire of my cause,

my wrongs before him laid.

3 Thou didst my steps direct,

when my grieved soul despaired;

For where I thought to walk secure,

they had their traps prepared.

4 I looked, but found no friend

to own me in distress:

All refuge failed, no man vouchsafed

his pity or redress.

5 To God at last I prayed;

thou, Lord, my refuge art,

My portion in the land of life,

till life itself depart.

6 Reduced to greatest straits,

to thee I make my moan:

O save me from oppressing foes,

for me too pow'rful grown.

7 That I may praise thy name,

my soul from prison bring;

Whilst of thy kind regard to me

assembled saints shall sing.