O why so far removed, O Lord,
And why so distant be;
Why hidest Thou Thy face from us
In our anxiety?

The wicked in unholy pride
The lowly poor oppress;
Let them be taken in the snare
Of their own craftiness.

The wicked in his arrogance
Refuses God to fear,
Nor is it in his thoughts at all
The sovereign God to hear.

His ways are grievous and Thy laws
Too high for him to see;
He therefore his defiance bids,
And taunts his enemy.

For he within his heart has said,
I suffer no distress,
Adversity comes not to me,
I still have had success.

In cursing and deceit and fraud
His tongue is ever skilled;
With festering iniquity
His mouth is ever filled.

He lurks in village hiding place,
And in dark corners bent,
He watches for the humble poor,
To seize the innocent.

In stealth he cowers covertly
As lion in his lair,
That he may pounce upon the poor,
And catch him in his snare.

He crouches low so that the poor
To his strong friends may fall,
And tells himself that God forgets
Or sees it not at all.

Arise, O Lord, and lift Thy hand,
The poor in memory keep.
How can the wicked blaspheme God
And say He is asleep?

For surely Thou dost see, O Lord,
Dost see the sin and spite;
And when the helpless look to Thee
Thou dost their wrong requite.

Break Thou the force of evil men,
Befriend the fatherless,
Trace out the wicked everywhere,
Uproot their wickedness.

The Lord our God is sovereign still,
The heathen all are slain.
Thou, Lord, hast heard the suppliant’s prayer
And dost his heart sustain.

No more shall boasting arrogance
Or taunting pride oppress;
The poor and orphaned Thou wilt hear
And judge with righteousness.

Wherefore is it that Thou, O Lord,
Dost stand from us afar?
And wherefore hidest Thou Thyself,
When times so troublous are?

The wicked in his loftiness
Doth persecute the poor:
In these devices they have fram’d
Let them be taken sure.

The wicked of his heart’s desire
Doth talk with boasting great;
He blesseth him that’s covetous,
Whom yet the Lord doth hate.

The wicked, through his pride of face,
On God he doth not call;
And in the counsels of his heart
The Lord is not at all.

His ways they always grievous are;
Thy judgments from his sight
Removèd are: at all his foes
He puffeth with despight.

Within his heart he thus hath said,
I shall not movèd be;
And no adversity at all
Shall ever come to me.

His mouth with cursing, fraud, deceit,
Is fill’d abundantly;
And underneath his tongue there is
Mischief and vanity.

He closely sits in villages;
He slays the innocent:
Against the poor that pass him by
His cruel eyes are bent.

He, lion-like, lurks in his den;
He waits the poor to take;
And when he draws him in his net,
His prey he doth him make.

Himself he humbleth very low,
He croucheth down withal,
That so a multitude of poor
May by his strong ones fall.

He thus hath said within his heart,
The Lord hath quite forgot;
He hides His countenance, and He
For ever sees it not.

O Lord, do Thou arise; O God,
Lift up Thine hand on high:
Put not the meek afflicted ones
Out of Thy memory.

Why is it that the wicked man
Thus doth the Lord despise?
Because that God will it require
He in his heart denies.

Thou hast it seen; for their mischief
And spite Thou wilt repay:
The poor commits himself to Thee;
Thou art the orphan’s stay.

The arm break of the wicked man,
And of the evil one;
Do Thou seek out his wickedness,
Until Thou findest none.

The Lord is King through ages all,
Ev’n to eternity;
The heathen people from His land
Are perish’d utterly.

O Lord, of those that humble are
Thou the desire didst hear;
Thou wilt prepare their heart, and Thou
To hear wilt bend Thine ear;

To judge the fatherless, and those
That are oppressèd sore;
That man, that is but sprung of earth,
May them oppress no more.

Why dost Thou stand afar,
O Lord, in our distress?
And why dost Thou conceal Thyself
When troublous times oppress?

Do Thou, O Lord, arise;
O God, lift up Thy hand;
Forget Thou not the suffering poor,
The humble in the land.

Their foes Thou dost behold,
Their wrongs Thou wilt repay;
The poor commit themselves to Thee,
Thou art the orphans’ stay.

Thou, Lord, hast heard their prayer
When humble hearts drew nigh;
Thou also wilt revive their strength
And ever hear their cry.

Defend the fatherless,
And all who are oppressed,
That they by human pride and power
May be no more distressed.

Why doth the Lord stand off so far?
And why conceal His face,
When great calamities appear,
And times of deep distress?

Lord, shall the wicked still deride
Thy justice and Thy power?
Shall they advance their heads in pride,
And still Thy saints devour?

They put Thy judgments from their sight,
And then insult the poor;
They boast in their exalted height,
That they shall fall no more.

Arise, O God, lift up Thine hand,
Attend our humble cry;
No enemy shall dare to stand
When God ascends on high.

Why do the men of malice rage,
And say, with foolish pride,
“The God of Heav’n will ne’er engage
To fight on Zion’s side?”

But Thou forever art our Lord;
And powerful is Thine hand,
As when the heathens felt Thy sword,
And perished from Thy land.

Thou wilt prepare our hearts to pray,
And cause Thine ear to hear;
He hearkens what His children say,
And puts the world in fear.

Proud tyrants shall no more oppress,
No more despise the just;
And mighty sinners shall confess
They are but earth and dust.

Why standest Thou afar, O Lord,
Why art Thou hid in trouble’s hour?
The wicked persecute the poor
In haughty pride and reckless power.

Let their devices work their fall,
For in their shame is all their pride;
And while they seek unrighteous gain
The Lord of justice is defied.

The wicked thinks, in foolish pride,
There is no God Who will repay;
He has no fear of God or man
Because God’s judgments long delay.

Unmoved by fear of coming doom,
On fraud and wickedness intent,
With craft he lurks and waits to catch
The helpless and the innocent.

A lion crouching for his prey,
He waits the poor to overthrow;
He thinks that God remembers not,
Or hides His face and will not know.

Arise, O Lord, lift up Thy hand,
O God, protect the poor and meek;
Why should the proud Thy justice doubt,
And words of bold defiance speak?

O Lord, Thou wilt indeed requite,
The sin and sorrow Thou dost see;
The helpless and the fatherless
Commit themselves, O Lord, to Thee.

Break Thou the power of wicked men
And let their works no longer stand,
The Lord is King forevermore,
Who drove the nations from His land.

Lord, Thou hast heard the lowly prayer,
The fainting heart Thou wilt restore,
The helpless cause Thou wilt maintain,
That mortal man may boast no more.