Psalm 3

Martyrdom

O Lord, how many are my foes!
Against me many rise!
Concerning me the crowds suppose:
‘His God no help supplies.’

But you’re my glory, shielded round,
My head you lift, Lord, high.
He answers from his holy mound,
The Lord to whom I cry.

I lie down, sleep; I wake again -
Because the Lord supplied.
I will not fear ten thousand men
Drawn up on ev’ry side.

Arise, O Lord! My God save me!
Strike my foes on the jaw;
O break the teeth of those there be
Who break your holy law.

The source of all deliverance
It is the Lord alone.
Now may blessings in abundance
Be by your people known.