Page:Poems Toke.djvu/213

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205

PSALM III.
LORD, how are they increased now,
That flock around to trouble me!
Many there be that 'gainst me rise,
And say, "God has no help for thee."

But Thou, O Lord, art still to me
A shield from every venomed dart;
Thou art my glory, and 'tis Thou
That liftest up my trembling heart.

To God I cried with mournful voice,
He heard me from His holy hill:
I laid me down and slept in peace,
I woke, for He sustained me still.

I will not fear ten thousand foes,
That threatening gather round my path:
Up, Lord, and help me, O my God,
Thine arm shall smite them down in wrath.

Yea, Thou, with Thine Almighty power,
Hast made the guilty nations bow;
To Thee salvation still belongs,
Thy blessing for Thy people now.

E.

January 13, 1839.