Psalm 94

Great God of Hosts revenge our Wrong
On those, who are in Mischiefe strong.
Vpon thy Foes
Inflict our Woes:
For Vengeance doth to Thee belong.
Judge of the World, prevent
The Proud and Insolent.

How long shall they the Just oppresse,
And triumphin their Wickednesse!
How long supplant!
Ah! how long vaunt,
And glory in their dire successe!
Thy Saints asunder break,
Insulting o're the Weak!

Who Strangers, and poore Widdowes kill;
The blood of wretched Orphans spill:
And say, Can he
Or heare, or see?
Doth God regard what's good or ill?
Brute Beasts, without a mind!
O Fools in knowledge blind!

Shall not th'Almighty see and heare,
Who form'd the Eye, and fram'd the Eare?
Who Nations slew,
Not punish you?
Who taught, not know? to him appeare
Darke Counsels, secret Fires,
Vaine Hopes, and vast Desires.

But O! thrice blessed he, whom God
Chastiseth with his gentle Rod;
Informes, and awes
By sacred Lawes.
In stormes brought to a safe aboad:
While the Unrighteous shall
By winged Vengeance fall.
For he will not forsake th'Elect;
Nor who adore his Name reject:
But Judgement then
Shall turne agen
To Justice, and her Throne Erect:
Who are in Heart upright
Shall follow that cleare Light.

What mortall will th'Afflicted aid?
Depend when impious Foes invade?
Lord, hadst not thou,
My Soule ere now
In silent shades of Death had laid:
For he my Out-cries heard;
And from the Centre rear'd.

When Griefe my labouring Soule confounds;
Thou powrest Balme into her wounds.
Shall Tyrannie
With thee complie?
Who Mischiefe for a Law propounds?
Who swarme to circumvent,
And doome the Innocent.

But thou, O Lord, art my Defence,
My Refuge, and my Recompence.
The Vicious shall
By Vices fall;
By their owne Sinnes be swept from hence.
God shall cut off their breath,
And give them up to Death.