Hymn 40The Valley of the Shadow of DeathMy soul is sad and much dismay’d;See, Lord, what legions of my foes,With fierce Apollyon at their head,My heav’nly pilgrimage oppose!See, from the ever-burning lakeHow like a smoky cloud they rise!With horrid blasts my soul they shake,With storms of blasphemies and lies.Their fiery arrows reach the mark,My throbbing heart with anguish tear;Each lights upon a kindred spark,And finds abundant fuel there.I hate the thought that wrongs the Lord;Oh, I would drive it from my breast,With thy own sharp two-edged sword,Far as the east is from the west.Come then, and chase the cruel host,Heal the deep wounds I have receiv’d!Nor let the pow’rs of darkness boastThat I am foil’d, and thou art griev’d!