Preserve, O God, my weary soul;
©2006 Deborah King
My place of refuge be;
Thou art my Lord; my soul shall find
No good apart from Thee.
Thy holy servants in the earth,
In them is my delight—
I love Thy saints who worship Thee,
The noble and upright.
Pursuing any other god
Will end in grief and shame.
I will not bring them offerings
Or call upon their name.
My portion is the Lord Himself;
My lot rests in His hand.
How pleasant and how beautiful
Is my inheritance.
I bless the Lord who counsels me
And guides me in the night.
Shall I be shaken while He stands
Before, and on my right?
No, I shall rest secure in Him;
And death I ne’er shall see!
Rejoice! for to the grave Thy God
Will not abandon Thee.
For He to all His holy ones
The path of life will show—
I, in His presence deepest joy
And pleasures e’er will know.