Here you will find the Poem Song III of poet Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski
Have mercy on me, my Lord, For a foe treds o'er me and strives Mindfully that time and again I be wearied by all adversity. Cruelly he treds, proud in his throng, Stifling me with cruelness undue; Never's the day I'm free of him, Nor is my night empty of grim fear. Yet, be it day, be it night when Pondrous fear doth oppress, kind Father, Thou, my Defender, art my hope, And in each need to the end shall be. Whilst I, Lord, being assured In Thy promises, neither blind Human connivance, nor fierce threat, Nor battle's dread would I fear. Whatever I say, they wrongly construe; To my each deed they give rebuke; Impious ones have turned all care To rendering me most loatheful. In temples by veiled treachery Or open offence they conspire To smite me; my every path they mark, No safety would they afford me. And this Thou wouldst suffer, just Lord? Evil ones are to rejoice in such doings? Wouldst Thou waiver bringing unrising Ruin to a Temple of such calumny? I know, verily I know, Lord eternal, That my every defeat Thou dost reckon, Tears from sad eyes Thou dost retain, And dread afflictions' cause Thou dost know; Work of evildoers Thou turnst to naught, But to me a kindly ear dost lend, And brights signs of Thy benevolence And constant love to me Thou dost reveal. Whilst I, Lord, being assured In Thy promises, neither blind Human connivance, nor fierce threat, Nor battle's dread would I fear. And ever to Thee, fatherly guard Of my being, fuli praise I'll offer In fitting song; unhindered, I'll feign Not giving, free by thy grace, my avowed Sacrifice. With Thine aid, my feet Shall stray not from Thy sacred path, For such time as my spirit's abode In this frail body be, O my Lord!