Psalm Xxxviii. Poem by Rees Prichard

My gracious God! compassion's Sire!
Do not rebuke me in thine ire,
Nor let thy dreadful wrath extend
Its terrors to my latter end!

O Lord! each keenly-pointed dart
Of thine, has pierc'd my riven heart;
Like sudden storms thy hand descends;
Beneath the stroke my body bends.

My flesh is full of pain and woe;
So great, so furious was the blow!
No rest, my broken bones can find -
No peace, my conscience-wounded mind.

My sumless sins have soar'd so high
Above my head, they reach the sky;
The mountain-load I cannot bear,
The punishment is too severe!

No ease my batter'd body knows,
So very weighty are thy blows!
My wounds are of corruption full,
Because I was, ah me! so dull.

My back thou, like a bow hast bent -
Just to the grave thou hast me sent -
So very low I now am found,
That I am prostrate on the ground.

All day I am with grief opprest,
And all night long I cannot rest,
So much my woes and tears abound,
My couch is with the deluge drown'd.

Turn then to me, O Lord! thine eye -
See, how I weep - hark how I sigh!
Behold, how heavy on each part
Thy judgements lie! they whelm my heart.

To make my sorrows overflow,
And fill me with excess of woe,
My loins inflam'd intensely smart,
My body's pain'd in every part.

I feeble am, and smitten sore,
For grief of heart I grunt and roar:
So num'rous my afflictions are,
O God, I'm ready to despair!

O lessen thou thy burning rage,
And part of my fierce pain assuage,
Nor let my life be quite supprest;
But grant that I at length may rest!

Thou knowest, Lord! what I require,
Thou knowest all my heart's desire:
My thoughts, my fears, my misery,
Were never hid, my God! from thee.

My heart within me hardly beats,
My spirits flag, my blood retreats,
My clouded eyes have lost their light,
And no kind friend appears in sight.

My neighbours and relations fly,
And view me with a distant eye:
Of me, as of the plague, afraid,
They give me nor advice, nor aid.

All those, that would my soul betray,
Place snares and pitfalls in my way;
Like a mad dog, they wou'd oppress
Thy servant, in his dire distress.

Each, then, wou'd fain my life destroy,
Each told his tale with savage joy,
And each condemn'd me in his mind,
As the most vile of human kind.

Some did a thousand slanders say,
Some mock'd and scoff'd me all the day;
Some still mean't nothing but deceit,
My woes and sorrows were so great!

But as one deaf I still appear'd,
Who none of all their railing heard,
Or like a mute, I stood alone,
And held my peace, and answer'd none.

I am, like one that cannot hear,
Or like an idiot I appear,
And leave them, as they please, dispute,
Nor strive their scandals to refute.

But thou, O Lord! my cause wilt hear,
And to my plaint, I hope, give ear,
And make a due return to those,
Who without reason, are my foes.

O, let not them, that wou'd destroy
Thy servant, their heart's wish enjoy,
Let them not triumph over me,
When they my vast distresses see.

Shou'd my foot, e'er so little, slide,
At the mishap themselves they pride,
They laugh aloud at all my woes,
And my infirmities expose.

To suffer misery and scorn,
I, hapless wretch! methinks, was born;
My heart is overwhelm'd with pain,
Still in my sight my woes remain.

My sins I therefore do confess,
And do lament my wickedness;
But, Lord! I'm ready to despair,
To think how numerous they are.

Yet still my adversaries live,
They daily multiply and thrive,
And they that hated me the most,
Are now become a countless host.

All those that jumble wrong with right,
And good, with evil turns, requite,
Still shew themselves my constant foes,
And still their ranc'rous thoughts disclose.

Because I ever have pursu'd
The things that honest are, and good,
I am the public butt of all,
Who for my virtue seek my fall.

Then from thy sight, Lord! do not cast
Thy servant, but, to help him, haste!
Make him still more and more thy care,
And do not from him wander far.

Speed, O my God! - to aid me speed -
To aid me in the time of need!
O, be not from me long away,
My God! my health, my trust, my stay!