Psalm 91: 1 - 8 - Poem by Richard Merrell
He that dwells in the secret place
Of the Most High shall abide
Under the shadow of the almighty;
God shall be his great reside.
I will say of the Lord, my refuge
My fortress and: my God
In him will I always trust
He has become my staff and rod.
Surely he shall deliver you
From the snare that the fowler has set,
From the pestilence and disease
For the Lord, is the Master yet!
You shall not be afraid of the terror by night
Nor of the arrow that flies by day;
Nor of the pestilence which walks in the darkness
Nor of the destruction that wastes at noonday.
A thousand shall fall at your right hand -
And ten thousand at your right side
But it shall not come near you at all
For you abide in the promised land.
Only with your eyes shall you watch
And see the wicked's reward,
Because you have made my refuge -
Your habitation, even the LORD.
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