Psalms
Chapter 12
- 1
Lord, must I still go all unremembered, must thy look still be turned away from me?
- 2
Each day brings a fresh load of care, fresh misery to my heart;
- 3
must I be ever the sport of my enemies?
- 4
Look upon me, O Lord my God, and listen to me; give light to these eyes, before they close in death;
- 5
do not let my enemies claim the mastery, my persecutors triumph over my fall!
- 6
I cast myself on thy mercy; soon may this heart boast of redress granted, sing in praise of the Lord, my benefactor.