PSALM 13
C. M.
Complaint under temptations of the devil.
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How long wilt thou conceal thy face?
My God, how long delay?
When shall I feel those heav'nly rays
That chase my fears away?
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How long shall my poor lab'ring soul
Wrestle and toil in vain?
Thy word can all my foes control,
And ease my raging pain.
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See how the prince of darkness tries
All his malicious arts
He spreads a mist around my eyes,
And throws his fiery darts.
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Be thou my sun, and thou my shield,
My soul in safety keep;
Make haste, before mine eyes are sealed
In death's eternal sleep.
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How would the tempter boast aloud
If I become his prey!
Behold, the sons of hell grow proud
At thy so long delay.
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But they shall fly at thy rebuke,
And Satan hide his head;
He knows the terrors of thy look,
And hears thy voice with dread.
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Thou wilt display that sovereign grace,
Where all my hopes have hung;
I shall employ my lips in praise,
And victory shall be sung.
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