Psalm 43

My God, thy Servant vindicate:
O plead my Cause against their hate,
Who seeke my utter spoile!
Deliver from the Mercilesse,
Who with bold Injuries oppresse,
And prosper in their guile.

For of my Strength thou art the Lord.
Why like to one by thee abhorr'd
Dost thou my Soule expose!
Why wander I in blacke araid!
My body worne, my mind dismaid!
Pursu'd by cruell Foes!

Thy Favour and thy Truth extend;
Let them into my Soule descend,
Conducted by their light;
Conducted to thy holy Hill,
And House blest with thy Presence still;
There to injoy thy sight.

Then will I to thy Altar bring
An acceptable Offering,
That dost such Joyes afford:
There on a tunefull Instrument,
With Songs that joyne in sweet consent,
Thy sacred praise record.

My Soule, why art thou so deprest!
Why O thus troubled in my brest!
Sunke underneath thy load!
With constant hope on God await;
For I his Name shall celebrate,
My Saviour and my God.