Psalme Love.
How doe I love thy Law (O Lord) more then the hony or the hony-combe, more then thousands of silver and gold!
Hatred.
Thine enemies I hate with a perfect hatred.
Joy.
Thy testimonies are my delight: I rejoyce more in them, then they that finde great spoyles, more then in my appoynted food.
Grief.
Mine eyes gush out rivers of teares. Oh that my head were a fountain of teares, because they destroy thy Law.
Hope.
Mine eyes are dimme with wayting: how doe I long for thy salvation?