O Lord, My Rock, to Thee I Cry (Psalm 28)
Words: Nahum Tate and Nicholas Brady, 1696
Folk tune from English Country Songs, 1893
O Lord, my rock, to Thee I cry.
In sighs consume my breath.
O! Answer or I shall become
like those that sleep in death.
Regard my supplication, Lord,
the cries that I repeat
with weeping eyes and lifted hands
before thy mercy seat.
Let me escape the sinners’ doom
who make a trade of ill
and ever speak the person fair,
whose blood they mean to spill.
According to their crimes’ extent,
let justice have its course.
Relentless be to them as they
have sinned without remorse.
Since they the works of God despise,
nor will His grace adore,
His wrath shall utterly destroy
and build them up no more.
But I, with due acknowledgement,
His praises will resound,
from whom the cries of my distress
a gracious answer found.
My heart, its confidence reposed
in God, my strength and shield,
in Him I trusted and returned
triumphant from the field.
As He has made my joys complete,
’tis just that I should raise
the cheerful tribute of my thanks
and thus resound His praise.
His aiding pow’r supports the troops
that my just cause maintains.
‘Twas He advanced me to the throne.
Tis He secures my reign.
Preserve thy chosen and proceed
thine heritage to bless.
With plenty prosper them, in peace,
in battle, with success.