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PSALM XCI.
E who beneath the guardian wingOf God most high can firmly cling,
Shall safe within His shadow rest;
Yea, to the Lord he still may say,
Thou art my rock, my hope, my stay,—
My God, who trusts in Thee is blessed.
For surely He who gave thee breath
Will guard thee from the blast of death,
And snares that o'er thy pathway spread;
And thou mayst rest beneath His wing,
For He shall be thy covering,
His truth thy fortress, shield, and shade.
Will guard thee from the blast of death,
And snares that o'er thy pathway spread;
And thou mayst rest beneath His wing,
For He shall be thy covering,
His truth thy fortress, shield, and shade.
Thou shalt not fear night's gloomy powers,
Nor darts which strike in brighter hours
Not e'en that messenger of fear,
The pestilence which walks in night,
Yet wastes as swift in noonday light,
Shall wring from thee one trembling tear.
Nor darts which strike in brighter hours
Not e'en that messenger of fear,
The pestilence which walks in night,
Yet wastes as swift in noonday light,
Shall wring from thee one trembling tear.
For though around thee every hour,
Thousands may fall to rise no more,
Smote by the dread Avenger's sword,
Thousands may fall to rise no more,
Smote by the dread Avenger's sword,
