O Lord, How Many Are My Foes

O Lord

how ma­ny are my foes

In this weak state of flesh and blood!

My peace they daily dis­com­pose

But my de­fense and hope is God.

Tired with the bur­dens of the day

To Thee I raised an ev­en­ing cry:

Thou heard’st when I be­gan to pray

And Thine al­migh­ty help was nigh.

Supported by Thine heav’n­ly aid

I laid me down

and slept se­cure:

Not death should make my heart afraid

Though I should wake and rise no more.

But God sus­tained me all the night:

Salvation doth to God be­long;

He raised my head to see the light

And make His praise my morn­ing song.