James Merrick Psalm 39

James Merrick Psalm 39

My steps discretion's rules shall guide;
 * Nor error from my lips shall slide,

(Thus to myself resolv'd I said;)
 * Nor word, in wisdom's scale unweigh'd

While lawless crowds attend me nigh,
 * And mark me with insidious eye,

Behold me with the steady rein
 * Each effort of my tongue restrain.

Awhile my soul its purpose keeps;
 * A stubborn silence seals my lips:

But O! from themes of good withheld,
 * How oft my full-swoll'n heart rebell'd!

My thoughts in various tumult roll;
 * At length, impatient of control,

Forth from my struggling bosom brake
 * The kindled flame; and thus I spake:

Taught by thy wisdom, let me learn
 * How soon my fabric shall return

To earth, and in the silent tomb
 * Its seat of lasting rest assume.

O let me, heav'nly Lord, extend
 * My view to life's approaching end;

What are my days? (a span their line)
 * And what my age compared with thine?

Our life advancing to its close,
 * While scarce its earliest dawn it knows,

Swift through an empty shade we run,
 * And vanity and man are one:

With anxious pain this son of care
 * Toils to enrich an unknown heir,

And, eying oft his heapy store,
 * With vain disquiet thirsts for more.

Where, Lord, shall I my refuge see?
 * On whom repose my hope but thee?

O purge my guilt, nor let my foe
 * Exulting mock my heighten'd woe.

Convinc'd that thy paternal hand
 * Inflicts but what my sins demand,

I speechless sat; nor plaintive word,
 * Nor murmur, from my lips was heard,

But, O, in thy appointed hour
 * Withdraw thy rod; lest Nature's pow'r,

While griefs on griefs my heart assail,
 * Unequal to the conflict, fail.

O, how thy chastisements impair
 * The human form, however fair!

How frail the strongest frame we see,
 * If thou the sinner's fate decree!

As when the fretting moths consume
 * The labour of the curious loom,

The texture fails, the dyes decay,
 * And all its lustre fades away.

Such, man, thy state! then, humbled, own
 * That vanity and thou are one;

Thyself when in the balance weigh'd
 * A nothing, and thy life a shade.

To thee, great God, my knees I bend;
 * To thee my ceaseless pray'rs ascend;

O let my sorrows reach thine ears,
 * And mark my sighs, my groans, my tears.

God of my fathers! here, as they,
 * I walk the pilgrim of a day;

A transient guest, thy works admire,
 * And instant to my home retire.

O spare me, Lord, awhile, O spare,
 * And nature's ruin'd strength repair,

Ere, life's short circuit wander'd o'er,
 * I perish and am seen no more.