[Hitherto Unpublished Poems.]
METAPHRASE OF SOME PSALMS.
PSALM I.[182]
That man is blest which hath not walkt aside,
Takeinge ungodly counsell for his guide;
Nor in the way of synners stood and staied,
Nor in the couch of Scorners downe him layed,
But in God's Lawe hath plac't his whole delight,
And studieth to performe it, day and night:
Hee, like a plant which by a streame doth growe,
His timely fruite shall in due season showe;
Whose leafe shall not decay but flourish euer,
And all thinges prosper which hee doth endeauour
But with th' vngodly it shall not bee soe,
But as the dust, which as the whirlewindes to and fro
Uppon the surface of the earth doth driue,
They shall a restless life and fruitles liue;
Nor shall they stand vpright when they are tride,
Nor in the assembly of the just abide:
But in his way God doth the good man cherish,
When wicked men in their bad way shall perish.
PSALM II.
Why doe the nations thus in furie rise?
Why doe the people such vaine plotts deuise?
Monarches stand vp and Princes doe conspire
Against the Lord, and His Annoynted Heire:
'Let vs in sunder breake their bandes,' say they,
'And let vs lightly cast their yokes away.'
But Hee that sitts in Heauen shall them deride,
And laugh to scorne their follie and their pride;
And in His wrath He shall reproue them sore,
And vex them in His anger, more and more:
Sayinge, 'I sett on Sion hill My Kinge,
To preache my Lawe, and shew this heauenly thinge;
Thou art My Sonne, this day I Thee begott,
Aske, and I will assigne thee for Thy Lott
Of heritage the Landes and Nations all,
Betweene the Sunne's vprisinge & his fall.'
Thou with an iron rodd shall keepe them vnder,
And breake them like an earthen pott in sunder,
Bee wise, yee Monarches, and yee Princes then;
Be learnèd, yee that judge the sonnes of men;
Serue yee the Lord, with humble feare Him serue;
Rejoyce in Him, yet tremblinge Him obserue;
Kisse yee the Sonne, lest yee Him angrie make,
And perish, while His just wayes yee forsake,
If His just wrath but once enkinled bee:
Who trust in Him, a blessed man is hee.
PSALM III.
Lord! how my foes in number doe encrease,
That rise against mee, to disturbe my peace!
Many there are which to my soule haue said,
His God to him not safety yeilds nor aid;
But God is my defence, my Succour nigh,
My glory, and my head Hee lifteth High:
To Him with earnest praier appealèd I,
And from His Holy Hill Hee heard my crie:
I layed mee downe and slept, and rose againe,
For mee the Lord doth euermore sustaine:
Though Thousand of my foes besett mee round,
Noe feare of them my courage shall confound:
Rise Lord! and saue mee; Thou hast giuen a stroke
On my foes cheeke, that all his teeth are broke:
Saluation cometh from this Lord of ours,
Who blessings on His people daily powers.
PSALM IV.