O Lord, I unto thee do cry

1 O Lord, I unto thee do cry,
do thou make haste to me,
And give an ear unto my voice,
when I cry unto thee.
2 As incense let my prayèr be
directed in thine eyes;
And the uplifting of my hands
as th' ev'ning sacrifice.

3 Set, Lord, a watch before my mouth,
keep of my lips the door.
4 My heart incline thou not unto
the ills I should abhor,
To practice wicked works with men
that work iniquity;
And with their delicates my taste
let me not satisfy.

5 Let him that righteous is me smite,
it shall a kindness be;
Let him reprove, I shall it count
a precious oil to me:
Such smiting shall not break my head;
for yet the time shall fall,
When I in their calamities
to God pray for them shall.

6 When as their judges down shall be
in stony places cast,
Then shall they hear my words; for they
shall sweet be to their taste.
7 About the grave's devouring mouth
our bones are scattered round,
As wood which men do cut and cleave
lies scattered on the ground.

8 But unto thee, O God the Lord,
mine eyes uplifted be:
My soul do not leave destitute;
my trust is set on thee.
9 Lord, keep me safely from the snares
which they for me prepare;
And from the subtle gins of them
that wicked workers are.

10 Let workers of iniquity
into their own nets fall,
Whilst I do, by thine help, escape
the danger of them all.

Source: Foundations Psalter: 1650 Scottish Psalter #141