A poem on Psalm 64.
O hear my voice, my God of care:
protect me from my enemy’s snare.
Their tongues, like swords, are sharp and keen, —
their words, like arrows, strike unseen.
They plot in secret—craft their Lie, —
to ambush us and mortify.
“They’ll never see,” their voices say;
their schemes grow bold in Shadows gray.
But God will shoot His arrows true;
their own designs will pierce them through.
Their plans, exposed for all to see,
will cause them to cower and to flee.
The Righteous then will find their place,
rejoicing in the Lord’s Embrace;
for those who trust His Holy Name
will see His Justice, pure and plain.
So let the Upright lift their voice,
and in His works of Grace rejoice.
Ponder His works with Wisdom true
and give the Glory His Name is due.
The Lutheran Column 