RESH

O with a fatherly regard
Consider my distress, how hard
 Amongst thy sons my lot;
Attend and patronise my cause,
For mine allegiance to thy laws
 I never have forgot.

For me and for my foes decide,
Against their virulence and pride,
 And all their weapons ward;
Encourage me my woes to bear,
By praise, by patience, and by pray'r,
 And to thy word accord.

Health is from wicked men remote,
Which on the pomp of Mammon glote,
 And court the dust and moth;
Which, in all offices remiss,
Heed not the hopes of heavenly bliss,
 Nor hazard of thy wrath.

Great is thy goodness in its fruits,
Of all thy blessed attributes
 The nearest to thy heart;
My listless faculties arouse,
O Lord, and to my daily vows
 Thy wonted grace impart!

I am oppress'd with foes and feuds,
And by combining multitudes
 In tumult overborne;
Yet will I not in thought despise
Thy statutes, or apostatize
 From that which I have sworn.

It grieves my heart when I behold
The world so careless and so cold
 In what their soul concerns,
Because they will not be resolv'd,
But each, in carnal cares involv'd,
 From church to vice returns.

Consider, ev'n in deep distress,
With what affection I caress
 The Gospel Jesus spake.
O Lord, as thou art loving-kind,
Of all thy mercies in my mind
 A lively sense awake!

Thy words are everlasting life,
And can their purpose in the strife
 Of elements maintain;
And though the Lord predicts a day,
When heav'n and earth must pass away,
 His Gospel shall remain.