Psalm 6

 Words: The Psalter of the United Presbyterian Church of North America, 1887 ed.

There is also a Long Metre version of this Psalm on this page

Common Metre Tunes
   1  In thy great indignation, Lord,
         Do thou rebuke me not;
      Nor on me lay thy chastening hand
         In thy displeasure hot.
   2  Lord, I am weak, thy mercy show,
         And me restore again;
      O heal me, Lord, for thou dost know
         My bones are filled with pain.
   3  My soul is sorely vexed, but, Lord,
         How long stay wilt thou make?
      Return, O Lord, my soul set free,
         Save for thy mercies' sake.
   4  Because of thee in death there shall
         No more remembrance be;
      Of those that in the grave do lie
         Who shall give thanks to thee?
   5  I with my groaning weary am;
         Through all my night of woe,
      My weeping made my bed to swim,
         My coach with tears to flow.
   6  By reason of my vexing grief
         My eye consumes away;
      And through my foes, it waxes old
         In failure and decay.
   7  But now depart from me, all ye
         That work iniquity,
      Because Jehovah heard my voice
         When I did mourn and cry.
   8  And to my supplicating voice
         The Lord did hearing give;
      When I to him address my prayer,
         The Lord will it receive.
   9  Let all my haters be ashamed,
         And smitten with affright;
      In shame let them be driven backs
         And put to sudden flight.

Long Metre Tunes  

   1  In anger, Lord, rebuke me not;
      In chastening, thy fierce wrath restrain;
      Lord, pity me, for I am weak,
      And heal my bones so vexed with pain,
   2  My soul is also sorely vexed;
      But, Lord, how long stay wilt thou make?
      Return, O Lord, my soul set free;
      O save me for thy mercies' sake.
   3  For they who sleep the sleep of death,
      Of thee shall no remembrance have;
      And who is he that will to thee
      Give praises lying in the grave?
   4  I with my groaning weary am;
      Through all the dreary night my bed
      I made to swim, and I my couch
      Have watered with the tears I shed.
   5  My eye, consumed with grief, grows dim,
      Because of all my enemies;
      Depart, ye wicked workers all,
      For God hath heard my weeping cries.
   6  My supplication God hath heard,
      And will receive my earnest cry;
      Ashamed and vexed be all my foes,
      And back in sudden terror fly.


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Page last modified on: 07/29/2004