Psalm 59

Help, O Lord! the faithful fail,
Scarce a man continues just.
Shall the gates of hell prevail?
Shall the church on earth be lost?

Every soul from Thee departs,
Bold to cast Thy words behind;
Men of double tongues and hearts,
False as hell are all mankind!

God shall judge the faithless race,
Bruise them with an iron rod,
All who walk in pride abase.
Make the rebels own their God.

"Surely now," the Lord hath said,
"I will in My might arise,
Bring My needy servants aid,
Answer all their plaintive sighs.

"I Myself will save the' oppress'd;
Placed beyond the tyrant's power,
Satan shall no more molest,
Sin shall never reach him more."

True and faithful is the Lord,
All that He hath spoke shall be;
Pure His every written Avord,
From the dross of falsehood free.

In the earthy furnace tried.
In the soul of fallen man,
Lo! as silver purified
All His promises remain.

Thou, O Lord, shalt all fulfil;
Earth and hell a while may rage;
Thou art our Preserver still,
Christ is ours from age to age.