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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