O Lord my King, how many enemies
Rise up against me, round and all about
And say that you will not deliver me!
But, Sovereign Lord, my Shield you surely are;
You crown my brow with glory’s brilliant light
And raise my weeping head in victory.
In my distress I cry aloud to you,
Then hear your answer from your temple’s height.
Ad even when my head lies down in sleep,
Because the Lord sustains me, gives me life,
I shall awake again soon, unafraid
Of multitudes arrayed surrounding me.
Rise up, O Lord, and save me, O my God;
Come strike the teeth of all my enemies
And put to silence all my wicked foes—
For from you comes salvation and our help,
So may your blessing all upon your folk.
This is the third in my series of Psalm versifications.
As always, I earnestly welcome your comments, suggestions, questions, critique, or other feedback about this or any other part of my work. (In other words, if you liked this poem, or you didn’t like it, or it made you think of something, or … please leave a comment to let me know.) If you liked this, you can follow this blog, which includes one of my poems every Friday, or read other poems I’ve written here on my blog (starting with yesterday’s archive installment, since the full archive is by now, at well over a hundred poems, somewhat daunting); I’d especially like to know, as part of my preparations for a collection, which poems you think are my best. You may also share it with others, subject to my sharing policy.
This poem is also archived on my wiki.