1 He that hath made his refuge God, Shall find a most secure abode, Shall walk all day beneath his shade, And there at night shall rest his head.
2 Then will I say, "My God, thy power "Shall be my fortress and my tower; "I that am form'd of feeble dust "Make thine almighty arm my trust."
3 Thrice happy man! thy Maker's care Shall keep thee from the fowler's snare, Satan, the fowler, who betrays Unguarded souls a thousand ways.
4 Just as a hen protects her brood From birds of prey that seek their blood, Under her feathers, so the Lord Makes his own arm his people's guard.
5 If burning beams of noon conspire To dart a pestilential fire, God is their life; his wings are spread To shield them with an healthful shade.
6 If vapours with malignant breath Rise thick and scatter midnight death, Israel is safe; the poison'd air Grows pure if Israel's God be there.