The Valley of the Shadow of Death

I

My soul is sad and much dismay’d;
See, Lord, what legions of my foes,
With fierce Apollyon at their head,
My heavenly pilgrimage oppose!

II

See from the ever-burning lake,
How like a smoky cloud they rise!
With horrid blasts my soul they shake,
With storms of blasphemies and lies.

III

Their fiery arrows reach the mark,
My throbbing heart with anguish tear:
Each lights upon a kindred spark,
And finds abundant fuel there.

IV

I hate the thought that wrongs the Lord;
Ah! I would drive it from my breast,
With thy own sharp two-edged sword,
Far as the east is from the west.

V

Come then and chase the cruel host,
Heal the deep wounds I have received!
Nor let the pow’rs of darkness boast
That I am foil’d and thou art grieved!