1. I Firmly on the Lord rely;
How can you thus my Soul advise?
To some safe Place for Refuge fly.
As tim'rous Bird to Mountain flyes.
Z. For lo; the Wicked bend their Bow,
And fix their Arrows on the String,
To sgoot, and with a secret Blow,
The innocent to Ruin bring;

3. If the Foundations of the State,
Justice, and Truth, are overthrown,
The Just can find no safe Retreat,
What shall by righteous Men be done?
4. The Lord is in his holy Place,
The Lord in Heav'n has fix'd his Throne;
From thence with piercing Eyes surveys
Men's Sons, and trys them ev'ry one.

5. The Lord the righteous Man does prove,
Afflict, and try his gracious State;
But those who Vice, and Rapine, love.
He from his very Soul does hate.
6. Snares, Fire, and Brimstone, (dreadful Rain!)
On guilty Heads he'll swiftly show'r
And burning Tempest's raging Pain,
Into their Cup of Vengeance pour,

7. The righteous Lord to righteous Souls,
His tender Love will free impart;
With Beams of Favour he beholds
The Man, who is upright in Heart.