085) Psalm 55
8.6.8.6.
1 Give ear, thou Judge of all the earth, and listen when I pray; Nor from thy humble suppliant turn thy glorious face away.
2 Attend to this my sad complaint, and hear my grievous moans;
Whilst I my mournful case declare with artless sighs and groans.
3 Hark, how the foe insults aloud! how fierce oppressors rage! Whose sland’rous tongues, with wrathful hate, against my fame engage.
4,5 My heart is racked with pain, my soul with deadly frights distressed; With fear and trembling compassed round, with horror quite oppressed.
6 How often wished I then, that I the dove’s swift wings could get; That I might take my speedy flight, and seek a safe retreat.
7,8 Then would I wander far from hence, and in wild deserts stray, Till all this furious storm were spent, this tempest past away.