Snatch from the miry depths my feet;
Back let my furious foes retreat;
Safe from their hate thy servant keep,
Nor leave him sinking in the deep.
O then the swelling storm assuage,
Ere yet the flood’s remorseless rage
In dreadful whirlpools wrap me round,
And plunge me in the dark profound.
Hear Lord, and to my soul display
Thy mercy’s all enliven’d ray;
Look down, eternal God, look down,
Behold me, but without a frown.
Ne’er to thy servant’s longing eye
Thy face, amidst my foes, deny;
Haste to my aid, O haste thee near,
Release my soul from hostile fear.
James Merrick (1720-1769)
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