Blessed is he that considereth the poor: the Lord will deliver him in time of trouble. Psalm 41:1
Blest he who wisely helps the poor,
In trouble he shall help secure:
The Lord shall keep him, he shall live,
And blessing on the earth receive.
Thou wilt not give him to the will
Of foes that seek to do him ill.
When laid upon the bed of pain,
The Lord with strength will him sustain.
On him Thou wilt compassion take,
And all his bed in sickness make.
Lord, pity, heal Thou me,
Because I have offended Thee.
My foes speak ill of me, they say,
When shall he die? his name decay?
If seeing me, his speech is vain;
His heart hoards ills to tell again.
All those who hate me, whisper lies,
Against me hurtful things devise:
Now his disease, say they,
It binds him fast, he’ll rise no more.
Yea, e’en my own familiar friend,
The man on whom I did depend,
Who ate my bread, pretending zeal,
Against me lifted up his heel.
In mercy raise me up, O Lord,
To render foes a due reward.
By this I know Thy love remains,
Because my foe no triumph gains.
Thou dost my steps direct aright,
And set me ever in Thy sight.
Let Israel’s God, Jehovah, then
Be ever blest. Amen, amen.