Psalm 40, Part 2

For, O, my soul is sore beset
By countless foes; encompass'd round
By countless ills; beneath their weight
I sink oppress'd, o'erwhelm'd, and bound;
The load immense I faint to bear,
And fails my heart through sad despair!

Help me! Thou God of love and might!
Me to redeem make haste away:
Put all my cruel sins to flight,
Slay all who seek my soul to slay;
Cover with shame my hater's face.
And all the alien armies chase.

Defeat the men, with Satan join'd
To' ensure my shame and misery;
Here only let the mockers find
The dire reproach they cast on me;
Exploded, desolate, forlorn,
And wretched till to Thee they turn.

But let the men that seek Thy name
Rejoice in Thee, their Lord and God;
The wonders of Thy love proclaim,
And publish all Thy works abroad;
Saved by Thy dear redeeming grace,
And always happy in Thy praise.

I, too, the poorest sinner I,
With them shall Thy compassion prove
On Thee, my Saviour, I rely,
And wait Thy succours from above:
Come, O my God, no more delay,
O come, and bring the perfect day!