Blest Be the Lord, My Rock, My Might

Blest be the Lord

my rock

my might

My con­stant help­er in the fight

My shield

my right­eous­ness

My strong high tow­er

my Sav­ior true

Who doth my en­emies sub­due

My shel­ter in dis­tress.

Lord

what is man

what hath he wrought

The son of man

that in Thy thought

To hold him Thou shouldst deign?

For man is like a breath

a sigh

His days on earth as quick­ly fly

As sha­dows o’er the plain.

Lord

bow Thy heav­ens

in might des­cend

Touch Thou the hills

the mount­ains rend

And they shall smoke and flame;

As ar­rows send Thy light­nings out

To put Thy en­emies to rout

And fill Thy foes with shame.

Stretch forth Thy hand and res­cue me

From trou­ble’s dark and rag­ing sea

And from the ali­en throng

Whose mouth but van­ity doth speak

Whose hand of strength against the weak

Is filled with craft and wrong.

Now will I sing a glad new song

Thy praise

O God

I will pro­long

For Thou hast heard my pray­er;

Salvation Thou dost give to kings

Thy own dost keep

with shel­ter­ing wings

From hurt­ful sword and snare.

O Thou to whom in trust I flee

Stretch forth Thy hand and res­cue me

From all the ali­en throng

Whose mouth but van­ity doth speak

Whose hand of strength against the weak

Is filled with craft and wrong.