C. M.

Prayer and faith of persecuted saints.

Now plead my cause, Almighty God,

With all the sons of strife;

And fight against the men of blood,

Who fight against my life.

Draw out thy spear and stop their way,

Lift thine avenging rod;

But to my soul in mercy say,

"I am thy Savior God!"

They plant their snares to catch my feet,

And nets of mischief spread;

Plunge the destroyers in the pit

That their own hands have made.

Let fogs and darkness hide their way,

And slipp'ry be their ground;

Thy wrath shall make their lives a prey,

And all their rage confound.

They fly like chaff before the wind,

Before thine angry breath;

The angel of the Lord behind

Pursues them down to death.

They love the road that leads to hell;

Then let the rebels die,

Whose malice is implacable

Against the Lord on high.

But if thou hast a chosen few

Amongst that impious race,

Divide them from the bloody crew,

By thy surprising grace.

Then will I raise my tuneful voice,

To make thy wonders known;

In their salvation I'll rejoice,

And bless thee for my own.