Psalm 70

O God, my God, from my distresse
be pleas'd to set me free,
With speed, O Lord, do thou afford
thy saving help to mee.
Together shame them, and confound
that seek my soul to spill,
Let them be driven back with shame,
that think or wish me ill.

For a reward unto their shame,
let them destroyed be,
That in scorn and rejoycing say,
aha, aha, to me.
Let them in thee be glad and joy,
who seek thy face always,
Let those that thy salvation love,
say still, to God be praise.

The Lord yet still doth think on me,
though weak and poor I be;
Thou art my God, my Saviour,
stay not, Lord, long from me.