PSALM XXXVIII.
If for my sinnes Thine anger kindled bee,
Lord! let not then Thy justice chastise mee;
Thine arrowes fixèd in my fleshe doe stand,
I feele the pressure of Thy heauie hand;
I haue noe health Thine anger is soe much,
My bones noe rest; my greiuous synne is such,
My wickednes doth mount aboue my head
And fallinge presse mee like a load of lead;
My ulcers are corrupted and doe smell,
Caus'd by my folly, which I blush to tell.
I am with greife soe broken and soe torne,
As I all day in heart and habit mourne.
My loynes are fillèd with a sore desease,
Noe parte of all my bodie feeleth ease;
I am soe faint, soe feeble, and soe sore,
As paine and anguish make mee crie and roare;
Thou Lord! the longings of my heart dost see,
My sighes and groanings are not hidd from Thee.
My heart doth pant, my sinewes faile mee quite,
My weepinge eyes haue lost their power of sight;
Meane while, my freinds and neighbours they looke on,
My nearest kinsmen farthest of[f] are gon:
And they which seeke my life haue layed their snares
And sett their trapps, to catch mee vnawares.
They that to doe mee mischeife lye in wait,
Doe plott and practise nothinge but deceit;
But as for mee in silent patience
I seemèd deafe and dumbe and voyde of sence;
As one whose eare admitts not any sound,
And in whose mouth there[222] is noe answeare found.
For on the Lord I euermore rely,
Though I stand mute, Thou shalt for mee replie:
My suite is that my foes may not preuaile
Who greatly joy to see my footinge faile;
For in a place of stumblinge sett am I,
My sad estate is still before mine eye;
But I with sorrow will confesse my synne,
And grieue that I offend my God therein;
And yet my foes do liue and grow in might,
They grow in numbers which do beare me spight.
They which doe ill for good, doe hate mee too,
Because I loue good turnes for ill to doe:
Lord leaue mee not nor from mee farr depart,
Saue mee with speede: for Thou my safety art.
PSALM XXXIX.
I said I will bee wary in my way;
Lest I offend in that my tongue should say,
I will my mouth as with a bridle hould,
While wicked men with enuy mee behould:
I dumb did stand and from all speech refraine,
Euen from good words, which was to mee a paine:
My heart was hott: while I such doubts did cast,
The fire brake out, and thus I spake at last:
'Lord of my life reueale to mee the end,
The period showe, to which my dayes doe tend'!
My life is but the measure of a spann,
Nought as to Thee, so vaine a thinge is man:
Who dreaminge walks, and toyles for wealth in vaine,
And doth not know to whome it shall remaine.
But what doe I expect? what is my hope!
Of my desires Thou art the only scope.
Lord! from my synnes Thine indignation turne
And make mee not to wicked fooles a scorne,
When Thou didst strike I silent was and dum
Because I knewe the blowe from Thee did come.
Remoue Thy hand, withdrawe Thy plague from me
Wherewith my vitall spirrits consumèd bee:
Thy plagues for sinne doth like a moth consume
Man's beauty vaine, which is nought else but fume.
Lord! heare my prayer, and listen to my cries,
Let not Thy gracious eye my teares dispise:
For I am but Thy guest, and sojourne heare,
On earth a pilgrim as my fathers were;
O spare a little, and my strength restore
Before I goe from hence to come noe more.
PSALM XL.
Long on the Lord, I waited patiently,
Till He enclin'd His eare, and heard my cry:
Drew mee from out the pitt of mire and clay
Did sett mee on firme ground and guide my way:
Put in my mouth a new and joyfull song
Of thankes[223] and praise, that to Himselfe belong.
Of His great mercie, many shall haue sense,
And of the Lord haue feare and confidence.
Blest is the man who hath on God relide,
Not turninge vnto lies or worldly pride;
O Lord! Thy works of wonder, they are such
Thy care and loue to vsward is soe much,
They are soe great, they are soe numberlesse,
As if I would, I could not them expresse.
My sacrifice of meates Thou would'st not take,
But Thou mine eare didst peirce and open make.
Thou didst not aske burnt-offerings at my hand
Then Lord said I 'I come at Thy commaund;
Thy Booke eternall, doth of mee record,
That I should come to doe Thy will O Lord!
To doe Thy will, my heart is pleasèd well,
For in my heart Thy lawe doth euer dwell;
Thy truth I haue to all Thy people tould,
Therein Thou knowest my tongue I cannot hould:
Thy justice in my heart is not conceal'd,
Thy mercy to the world I haue reueal'd;
I haue not spar'd to make Thy bounty knowne,
But in the Great Assembly haue it showne.
Take not Thy wonted mercy Lord, from mee,
But let Thy goodnes still my safety bee.
My trubles numberlesse such hould haue tooke
On my weake soule, as vp I cannot looke:
My sinnes beinge more then[224] haires upon my head,
Make my heart faint and vitall spirrits dead:
But bee it Lord, Thy pleasure and Thy will,
With speed to saue and rescue mee from ill:
Bringe them to shame that would my life destroy,
Reproue them Lord, that wish my soule's annoy:
Let them bee left to scorne and pride, which blame
Which scorninge say to me, fie, fie, for shame.
But let all those that seeke their blisse, in Thee
Rejoyce and say, the Lord's name praisèd bee'.
For mee who am contemtible and poore,
The Lord takes care, and feeds mee euermore:
Thou Lord art my protection, and my aid,
Let not Thy gracious helpe bee long delay'd.
PSALM XLI.
That man is blest who doth the poore regard;
In tymes of truble God shall him reward,
Prolong his life, and blesse him in the Land,
And free him from his foes' oppressing hand:
Shall comfort him, when sicke and weake hee lies,
And make his bedd till hee in health doe rise:
My synne hath giuen my soule a greiuous wound,
Apply Thy mercy Lord, and make it sound;
Thus speakes my foe of mee to show his spight,
'When shall his life and honnour perish quite'?
Hee vissitts mee, but with false heart and tongue
And thereof vaunts, his complices amonge:
Euen all my foes against mee doe conspire,
And with one minde my ruin doe desire;
'Let him,' say they of mee, 'in judgement fall
And when hee once is downe not rise at all.'
The freind I trusted, which did eat my bread,
Hath lifted vp his heele against my head.
Thy mercie's winges on mee O Lord display;
Raise mee againe, and I shall them repay.
By this I doe Thy gracious fauour see,
In that my foe doth not trihumph on mee.
Thou in my health uphouldst mee with Thy hand,
And in Thy presence I shall euer stand.
The name of Jacob's God bee blessèd then,
From age to age for euermore: Amen.
PSALM XLII.
As for the streames the hunted hart doth bray,
Soe for God's grace my heart doth pant and pray.
My soule doth thirst (O God of life!) for Thee,
When shall I come Thy blessed[225] face to see?
My teares are all my food both night and day,
While 'where is now thy God?' the wicked say.
I powrèd out my hart, while thus I thought
And to God's House the multitude I brought:
With songs of praise and thankfullnes withall,
To celebrate the Lord's great festiuall:
Then why art thou my soule soe full of woe,
Vnquiet in thyselfe and vexèd soe?
O put thy trust in God and thankfull bee,
For his sweet helpe His presence yields to Thee.
My soule is greiu'd remembringe all the ill
I felt in Jordan's vale and Hermon hill.
One depth of sorrow doth to another call,
Thy waves O God haue ouergon mee all:
I prais'd at night God's bounty of the day,
And vnto Him that giues mee life did pray.
God of my strength, why hast Thou left mee soe,
With heauy hart oppressèd by my foe?
My foe doth cut my bones as with a sword,
While hee in scorne repeats this bitter word,
'Where is thy God?' his speech to mee is such:
'Where is thy God, of which thou talk'st soe much?'
But why art thou my soule dejected soe?
Why art thou trubled and soe full of woe?
Trust thou in God, and giue Him thankfull praise[226]
Who is Thy present helpe in all thy wayes.