1 O Lord, how are my foes increased?
against me many rise.
2 Many say of my soul, For him
in God no succour lies.
3 Yet thou my shield and glory art,
th’ uplifter of my head.
4 I cry’d, and, from his holy hill,
the Lord me answer made.
5 I laid my down and slept, I wak’d;
for God sustained me.
6 I will not fear though thousands ten
set round against me be.
7 Arise, O Lord; save me, my God;
for thou my foes hast stroke
All on the cheek-bone, and the teeth
of wicked men hast broke.
8 Salvation doth appertain
unto the Lord alone:
Thy blessing, Lord, for evermore
thy people is upon.
Common Metre (8,6,8,6)
106 St Anne
127 St Thomas