Poetry

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I extol you, O Lord,
For you have drawn me up;
Being in one accord,
You bless me in my cup.

O Lord, I cried to You,
For help and You healed me;
For You guided me through,
Giving insight to see.

You have brought up my soul,
From hell and restored me;
That I could reach my goal,
Because You heard my plea.

I sing praises to You,
Give thanks Your holy name;
Remembrance as I knew,
And proceed to proclaim.

Anger has a moment,
Favor for a lifetime;
A disciplined torment,
That will help me to climb.

For weeping may tarry,
Continue through the night;
But joy starts to carry,
Me through the morning light.

I shall never be moved,
From Your prosperity;
Whatever is behooved,
For my sincerity.

For my mountain stands strong,
As my faith has obeyed;
That has helped me along,
Avoid those who have preyed.

To You, O Lord, I cry,
Pleading for Your mercy;
See my soul through my eye,
Without controversy.

What profits in my death,
If I go down to hell;
Rather renew my breath,
To Heaven I can dwell.

You turn morning to joy,
For glory praise to sing;
Since my foe You destroy,
Such happiness You bring.

Copyright © 2019 Richard Newton Sherrer

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