Who will arise and plead my right
Against my nu­mer­ous foes,
While earth and hell their force unite,
And all my hopes op­pose?

Had not the Lord, my rock, my help,
Sustained my faint­ing head,
My life had now in si­lence dwelt,
My soul amongst the dead.

Alas! My slid­ing feet! I cried;
Thy pro­mise was my prop;
Thy grace stood con­stant by my side,
Thy Spir­it bore me up.

While mul­ti­tudes of mourn­ful thoughts
Within my bo­som roll,
Thy bound­less love for­gives my faults,
Thy com­forts cheer my soul.

Powers of ini­qui­ty may rise,
And frame per­ni­cious laws;
But God my re­fuge rules the skies,
He will de­fend my cause.

Let mal­ice vent her rage aloud,
Let bold blas­phem­ers scoff;
The Lord our God shall judge the proud,
And cut the sin­ners off.