1 O Lord, with vengeance clad
Most awful thou art seen!
Yet blessed when most sad
Our chastened souls have been;
For we have hope to rest in joy,
When all thy foes thou shalt destroy.
2 The Lord will not forsake
Nor cast the souls away,
Who his salvation make
Their refuge and their stay;
But though they mourn awhile, his voice
Shall bid his faithful ones rejoice.
3 Had not thy help been nigh,
O Lord, my soul had died;
Thy mercy doth supply
Strength when my footsteps slide:
With many a gloomy care oppressed,
I sought thy comforts, and found rest.
4 A sure defence in thee
I never fail to find;
The tower to which I flee
When fears distract my mind:
Thy goodness, Lord, shall still defend,
And guide me to my journey's end.