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Isaac Watts - Psalm 124Isaac Watts - Psalm 124
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A song for the fifth of November. Had not the Lord, may Isr`el say, Had not the Lord maintained our side, When men, to make our lives a prey, Rose like the swelling of the tide; The swelling tide had stopped our breath, So fiercely did the waters roll, We had been swallowed deep in death; Proud waters had o`erwhelmed our soul. We leap for joy, we shout and sing, Who just escaped the fatal stroke; So flies the bird with cheerful wing, When once the fowler`s snare is broke. For ever blessed be the Lord, Who broke the fowler`s cursed snare, Who saved us from the murd`ring sword, And made our lives and souls his care. Our help is in Jehovah`s name, Who formed the earth and built the skies: He that upholds that wondrous frame Guards his own church with watchful eyes.
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