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PSALM 58. C.M.
Warning to magistrates. (cont.)

5	Or snails that perish in their slime, Or births that come before their time,    Vain births, that never see the sun.
6	Thus shall the vengeance of the Lord, Safety and joy to saints afford:    And all that hear shall join and say, "Sure there's a God that rules on high, "A God that hears his children cry,    "And will their suff'rings well repay."

PSALM 59. S.M.
Complaints against invading foes.

1	FROM foes that round us rise,    O God of heav'n, defend; Who brave the vengeance of the skies,    And with thy saints contend.
2	Behold! from distant shores,    And desert wilds they come, Combine for blood their barb'rous force,    And thro' our cities roam.
3	Beneath the silent shade,    Their secret plots they lay; Our peaceful walls by night invade;    And waste the fields by day.
4	And will the God of grace,    Regardless of our pain, Permit secure that impious race,    To riot in their reign?
5	In vain their secret guile,    Or open force they prove: His eye can pierce the deepest veil;    His hand their strength remove.
6	Yet save them, Lord, from death,    Lest we forget their doom;

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PSALM 59. S.M.
Complaints against invading foes. (cont.)

6	But drive them with thine angry breath,    Thro' distant lands to roam.
7	Then shall our grateful voice    Proclaim our guardian God; The nations round the earth rejoice,    And sound the praise abroad.

PSALM 60. C.M.
On a day of humiliation in war.

1	LORD thou hast scourg'd our guilty land,    Behold thy people mourn: Shall vengeance ever guide thy hand?    Shall mercy ne'er return?
2	Beneath the terrors of thine eye,    Earth's haughty tow'rs decay; Thy frowning mantle spreads the sky,    And mortals melt away.
3	Our Zion trembles at thy stroke,    And dreads thy lifted hand! O! heal the nation thou hast broke,    And save the sinking land.
4	Exalt the banner in the field,    For those that fear thy name; From barb'rous hosts thy people shield,    And put our foes to shame.
5	Attend our armies to the fight,    And be their guardian God: In vain shall num'rous pow'rs unite,    Against thy lifted rod.
6	Our troops, beneath thy guiding hand,    Shall gain a glad renown: 'Tis God who makes the feeble stand,    And treads the mighty down.