Scripture Verse

Arise, O Lord…deliver my soul from the wicked. Psalm 17:13


Isaac Watts (1674–1748)

Words: Is­aac Watts, The Psalms of Da­vid 1719. Por­tion of saints and sin­ners; or hope and des­pair in death.

Music: Cam­bridge (Har­ris­on) Ralph Har­ris­on, 1784. Ar­ranged by Sam­uel S. Wes­ley, 1872 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Samuel S. Wesley (1810–1876)


Arise, my gra­cious God,
And make the wick­ed flee;
They are but Thy chas­tis­ing rod,
To drive Thy saints to Thee.

Behold, the sin­ner dies,
His haugh­ty words are vain;
Here in this life his plea­sure lies,
And all be­yond is pain.

Then let his pride ad­vance,
And boast of all his store;
The Lord is my in­he­ri­tance,
My soul can wish no more.

I shall behold the face
Of my for­giv­ing God;
And stand com­plete in right­eous­ness,
Washed in my Sav­ior’s blood.

There’s a new heav’n be­gun,
When I awake from death,
Dressed in the like­ness of Thy Son,
And draw im­mor­tal breath.