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1O God, the heathen enter'd have
thine heritage; by them
Defiled
is thy house: on heaps
they laid
Jerusalem
.
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2The bodies of thy servants they
have cast forth to be meat
To
rav'nous fowls; thy dear saints' flesh
they gave to beasts to eat.
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3Their blood about
Jerusalem
like water they have shed;
And
there was none to bury them
when they were slain and dead.
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4Unto our neighbours a reproach
most base become are we;
A
scorn and laughingstock to them
that round about us be.
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5How long, Lord, shall thine anger last?
wilt thou still keep the same?
And
shall thy fervent jealousy
burn like unto a flame?
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6On heathen pour thy fury forth,
that have thee never known,
And
on those kingdoms which thy name
have never call'd upon.
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7For these are they who Jacob have
devoured cruelly;
And
they his habitation
have caused waste to lie.
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8Against us mind not former sins;
thy tender mercies show;
Let
them prevent us speedily,
for we're brought very low.
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9For thy name's glory help us, Lord,
who hast our Saviour been:
Deliver
us; for thy name's sake,
O purge away our sin.
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10Why say the heathen, Where's their God?
let him to them be known;
When
those who shed thy servants' blood
are in our sight o'erthrown.
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11O let the pris'ner's sighs ascend
before thy sight on high;
Preserve
those in thy mighty pow'r
that are design'd to die.
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12And to our neighbours' bosom cause
it sev'n-fold render'd be,
Ev'n
the reproach wherewith they have,
O Lord, reproached thee.
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13So we thy folk, and pasture-sheep,
shall give thee thanks always;
And
unto generations all
we will shew forth thy praise.
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