Psalm 79 1 O God, the heathen entered have thine heritage; by them Defiled is thy house: on heaps they laid Jerusalem.
2 The bodies of thy servants they have cast forth to be meat To rav'nous fowls; thy dear saints' flesh they gave to beasts to eat.
3 Their blood about Jerusalem like water they have shed; And there was none to bury them when they were slain and dead.
4 Unto our neighbors a reproach most base become are we; A scorn and laughingstock to them that round about us be.
5 How long, Lord, shall thine anger last? wilt thou still keep the same? And shall thy fervent jealousy burn like unto a flame?
6 On heathen pour thy fury forth, that have thee never known, And on those kingdoms which thy name have never called upon.
7 For these are they who Jacob have devoured cruelly; And they his habitation have caused waste to lie.
8 Against us mind not former sins; thy tender mercies show; Let them prevent us speedily, for we're brought very low.
9 For thy name's glory help us, Lord, who hast our Savior been: Deliver us; for thy name's sake, O purge away our sin.
10 Why say the heathen, where's their God? let him to them be known; When those who shed thy servants' blood are in our sight o'erthrown.
11 O let the pris'ner's sighs ascend before thy sight on high; Preserve those in thy mighty pow'r that are designed to die.
12 And to our neighbors' bosom cause it sev'n-fold rendered be, Ev'n the reproach wherewith they have, O Lord, reproached thee.
13 So we thy folk, and pasture-sheep, shall give thee thanks always; And unto generations all we will show forth thy praise. |
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