LORD, how are they increased now,
That flock around to trouble me!
Many there be that 'gainst me rise,
And say, "God has no help for thee."
But Thou, O Lord, art still to me
A shield from every venomed dart;
Thou art my glory, and 'tis Thou
That liftest up my trembling heart.
To God I cried with mournful voice,
He heard me from His holy hill:
I laid me down and slept in peace,
I woke, for He sustained me still.
I will not fear ten thousand foes,
That threatening gather round my path:
Up, Lord, and help me, O my God,
Thine arm shall smite them down in wrath.
Yea, Thou, with Thine Almighty power,
Hast made the guilty nations bow;
To Thee salvation still belongs,
Thy blessing for Thy people now.
E.