A poem on Psalm 41.
Blessèd is the one who Helps the weak,
who gives them Aid when times are bleak.
The Lord will guard them—keep them near, —
preserve their life and calm their fears.
When illness strikes, their bed He’ll tend
with healing hands, their strength defend.
I said, “O Lord, show Grace to me;
forgive my Sins—my Faults set free.”
My foes conspire—their Whispers sting;
they wonder what my End will bring.
Their words Betray, their hearts Deceive;
they spread their Lies to make me Grieve.
Even my Friend, who shared my bread,
has turned against me and has fled.
But You, O Lord, will lift my face, —
Restore my life with Boundless Grace.
By this I know You’re on my side, —
my foes won’t triumph, though they try.
You Hold me fast—my steps are sure;
in Your Presence, I’ll endure.
Forever blest, the Lord on High, —
the God of Israel drawing night.
From age to age, His name Proclaim.
Amen, Amen, exalt His name!
The Lutheran Column 