The Sidneian Psalms

PSALM I.

Beatus vir.

He blessed is who neither loosely treads
The straying steps as wicked councel leads,
   Ne for bad mates in way of sinners waiteth,
   Nor yet himself with idle scorners seateth;
But on Gods law his whole delight doth bind,
Which night and day hee calls to marking mind.

He shall be like a freshly planted tree,
To which sweet springs of waters neighbours be;
   Whose branches faile not timely fruite to nourish.
   Nor withered leaf shall make it faile to flourish:
So all the things whereto that man doth bend
Shall prosper still with well succeeding end.

Such blessing shall not wicked wretches see,
But like vile chaff with wind shall scattred be;
   For neither shall the men in sinne delighted
   Consist when they to highest doome are cited,
Ne yet shall suff'red be a place to take
Where godly men do their assembly make.

For God doth know, and knowing doth approve
The trade of them that just proceedings love:
   But they that sinne in sinfull breast do cherish,
   The way they go, shall be the way to perish.

PSALM II.

Quare fremuerunt gentes?

What ailes this Heath'nish rage? what do the people meane,
   To mutter murmurs vaine?
Why do these earthly kings and lords such meetings make,
   And councell joyntly take
Against the Lord of Lords, the lord of ev'rie thing,
   And his annointed king?
Come, let us break their bonds, say they, and fondly say,
   And cast their yokes away.
But he shall them deride who by the Heav'ns is borne,
   He them shall laugh to scorn,
And after speak to them with breath of wrathfull fire;
   And vex them in his ire.
And say, O kings, yet have I set my King upon
   My holy hill Sion;
And I will (saith this king) the Lords decree display,
   And say that he did say,
Thou art my Son indeed, this day begot by me:
   Ask, I will give to thee
The heath'n for thy childs right, and will thy realm extend
   Far as worlds farthest end;

With iron scepter bruise thou shalt and piecemeal break
   These men like potsherds weak.
Therefore, O kings! be wise, O rulers, rule your minde,
   That knowledge you may finde.
Serve God, serve him with fear, rejoice in him, but soe
   That joy with trembling goe;
With loving homage kiss that only Son he hath,
   Lest you inflame his wrath ;
Whereof if but a sparke once kindled be, you all
   From your way perish shall;
And then they that in him their only trust do rest,
   O, they be rightly blest!

PSALM III.

Domine, quid multiplicati?

Lord, how do they increase
That hatefull never cease
   To breed my grievous trouble?
How many ones there be
That all against poor me
   Their numerous strength redouble?

Even multitudes be they
That to my soul do saye
   No help for you remaineth
In God, on whom you build.
Yet, Lord, thou art my shield;
   In thee my glorie raigneth.

The Lord lifts up my head ;
To him my voice I spread;
   From holy hill he heard me:
I laid mo downe and slept,
While he me safelie kept,
   And safe from sleepe I rear'd me.

I will not be afraid,
Though legions round be laide,
   Which all against me gather:
I say no more but this,
Up, Lord, now time it is,
   Help me, my God, and Father!

For thou, with cruel blows
On jawbone of my foes,
   My causelesse wrong hast wroken;
Thou those men's teeth which bite,
Venomed with godlesse spight,
   Hast in their malice broken.

Salvation doth belong
Unto the Lord most strong;
   He it is that defendeth :
And on those blessed same
Which beare his people's name
   His blessing he extendeth.

PSALM IV.

Cum invocarem.

Heare me, O, heare me when I call,
   O God, God of my equity !
   Thou sett'st me free when I was thrall,
   Have mercy therefore still on me,
   And hearken how I pray to thee.

O men, whose fathers were but men,
   Till when will ye my honor high
   Stain with your blasphemies? till when
   Such pleasure take in vanity?
   And only haunt where lies do lye.

Yet know this to, that God did take,
   When he chose me, a godly one;
   Such one, I say, that when I make
   My cryeng plaintes to him alone,
   He will give good eare to my moane.

O, tremble then with awfull will;
   Sinne from all rule in you depose,
   Talk with your harts and yet be still;
   And, when your chamber you do close,
   Your selves, yet to your selves disclose.

The sacrifices sacrifie
   Of just desires, on justice staid;
   Trust in that Lord that cannot ly.
   Indeed full many folkes have said,
   From whence shall come to us such aid?

But, Lord, lift thou upon our sight
   The shining; cleerenes of thy face;
   Where I have found more harts delight;
   Then they whose store in harvests space
   Of grain and wine fills stoaring place.

So I in peace and peacefull blisse
   Will lay me down and take my rest:
   For it is thou, Lord, thou it is,
   By pow'r of whose own onely brest
   I dwell, laid up in safest neast.

PSALM V.

Verba mea auribus.

Ponder the wordes, O Lord, that I do say,
   Consider what I meditate in me:
   O, harken to my voice which calls on thee,
My king; my God, for I to thee will pray.
   Soe shall my voice clime to thine eares betime:
For unto thee I will my praier send
   With earliest entry of the morning prime,
And will my waiting eies to thee-ward bend.

For thou art that same God, farre from delight
   In that which of fowle wickednes doth smell:
   No, nor with thee the naughty ones shall dwell,
Nor glorious fooles stand in thy awfull sight.
   Thou hatest all whose workes in ill are plac'd,
And shall roote out the tongues to lyeing bent;
   For thou, the Lord, in endles hatred hast
The murd'rous man, and soe the fraudulent.

But I my self will to thy howse addresse
   With pasport of thy graces manifold ;
   And in thy feare, knees of my hart will fold,
Towardes the temple of thy hollinesse.
   Thou Lord, thou Lord, the saver of thine owne;
Guide me, O in thy justice be my guide;
   And make thy waies to me more plainly known,
For all I need, that with such foes do bide.

For in their mouth not one cleare word is spent,
   Mischief their soules for inmost lyning have:
   Their throate it is an open swallowing grave,
Whereto their tong, is flattiing instrument.
   Give them their due unto their guiltinesse,
Let their vile thoughts the thinckers ruine be:
   With heaped weights of their own sinns oppresse
These most ungratefull rebells unto thee.

So shal all they that trust on thee doe bend,
   And love the sweete sound of thy name, rejoyce.
   They ever shall send thee their praising voice;
Since ever thou to them wilt succour send.
   Thy work it is to blesse, thou blessedst them
The just in thee, on thee and justice build:
   Thy work it is such men safe in to hemm
With kindest care, as with a certain shield.

PSALM VI.

Domine, ne in furore.

Lord, lett not mee a worm by thee be shent,
   While thou art in the heate of thy displeasure;
Nor let thy rage of my due punnishment
                              Become the measure.


But mercy, Lord, lett mercy thine descend,
   For I am weake, and in my weaknes languish:
Lord, help, for ev'n my bones their marrow spend
                              With cruel anguish.

Nay, ev'n my soule fell troubles do appall.
   Alas! how long, my God, wilt thou delay me?
Turn thee, sweete Lord, and from this ougly fall,
                              My deere God, stay me.

Mercy, O, mercy, Lord, for mercy sake,
   For death doth kill the wittnes of thy glory,
Can of thy praise the tongues entombed make
                              A heav'nly story.

Loe, I am tir'd while still I sigh and grone:
   My moistned bed proofes of my sorrow showeth:
My bed (while I with black night moorn alone)
                              With my teares floweth.

Woe, like a moth, my faces beutie eates,
   And age pul'd on with paines all freshnes fretteth;
The while a swarm of foes with vexing feates
                              My life besetteth.

Get hence, you evil, who in my ill rejoice,
   In all whose works vainenesse is ever raigning,
For God hath heard the weeping sobbing voice
                              Of my complayning.

The Lord my suite did heare, and gently heare;
   They shall be sham'd and vext, that breed my cryeng,
And turn their backs, and straight on backs appeare
                              Their shamfull flyeng.

PSALM VII.

Domine, Deus meus.

O Lord, my God, thou art my trusfull stay:
   O, save me from this persecutions show'r:
Deliver me in my endanger'd way.

Least lion-like he doe my soule devoure,
   And cruelly in many peeces teare,
While I am voide of any helping pow'r.

O Lord, my God, if I did not forbeare
   Ever from deede of any such desert:
If ought my hands of wickednes do beare:

If I have been unkinde for frendly part:
   Nay, if I wrought not for his freedom's sake,
Who causlesse now yeeldes me a hatefull hart:

Then let my foe chase me, and chasing take:
   Then lett his foote upon my neck be set:
Then in the dust lett hym my honor rake.

Arise, O Lord, in wrath thy self up sett
   Against such rage of foes: awake for me
To that high doom, which I by the must gett.

So shall all men with laudes inviron thee;
   Therefore, O Lord, lift up thy throne on high,
That ev'ry folk thy wond'rous acts may see.

Thou, Lord, thy people shalt in judgment try:
   Then, Lord, my Lord, give sentence on my side
After my clearnesse, and my equity.

O, let their wickednes no longer bide
   From comming to the well deserved end;
But still be thou to just men justest guide.

Thou righteous proofes to hartes and reines dost send:
   And all my helpe from none but thee is sent,
Who dost thy saving-health to true men bend.

Thou righteous art, thou strong, thou pacient:
   And each day art provok'd thyne ire to show:
And if this man will not learn to repent,

For hym thou whett'st thy sword and bend'st thy bow,
   And hast thy deadly armes in order brought,
And ready art to lett thyne arrowes go.

Lo, he that first conceav'd a wretched thought,
   And greate with child of mischief travel'd long,
Now brought a bed, hath brought nought foorth but nought.

A pitt was digg'd by this man vainly strong;
   But in the pitt he ruin'd first did fall,
Which fall he made, to doe his neigbour wrong.

He against me doth throw; but down it shall
   Upon his pate, his paine emploied thus,
And his own ill his own head shall appall.

I will give thancks unto the Lord of us
   According to his heav'nly equity,
And will to highest name yield praises high.

PSALM VIII.

Domine, Dominus noster.

   O Lord that rul'st our mortall lyne,
   How through the world thy name doth shine:
That hast of thine unmatched glory
Upon the heav'ns engrav'n the story.

   From sucklings hath thy honor sprong,
   Thy force hath flow'd from babies tongue,
Whereby thou stopp'st thine en'mies prating,
Bent to revenge and over hating.

   When I upon the heav'ns do look,
   Which all from thee their essence took;
When moon and starrs my thoughts beholdeth,
Whose life no life but of thee holdeth:

   Then thinck I: ah, what is this man,
   Whom that greate God remember can?
And what the race of him descended,
It should be ought of God attended.

   For though in lesse then angell's state
   Thou planted hast this earthly mate:
Yet hast thou made ev'n hym an owner
Of glorious crown, and crowning honor.

   Thou placest hym upon all landes
   To rule the workes of thyne own handes:
And so thou hast all things ordained,
That ev'n his feete, have on them raigned.

   Thou under his dominion plac't
   Both sheepe and oxen wholy hast:
And all the beastes for ever breeding,
Which in the fertill fieldes be feeding.

   The bird, free-burgesse of the aire,
   The fish, of sea the native heire ;
And what things els of waters traceth
The unworn pathes, his rule embraceth.
   O Lord, that rul'st our mortall lyne,
   How through the world thy name doth shine.

PSALM IX.

Confitebor tibi.

With all my hart, O Lord, I will praise thee,
   My speaches all thy mervailes shall discry;
In thee my joyes and comfortes ever be,
   Yea, ev'n my songs thy name shall magnify,
                              O Lord most hie.

Because my foes to fly are now constrain'd,
   And they are fall'n, nay, perisht at thy sight;
For thou my cause, my right thou hast maintain'd,
   Setting thy self, in throne which shined bright,
                              Of judging right.

The Gentiles thou rebuked sorely hast,
   And wicked folks, from thee to wrack do wend:
And their renown, which seem'd so like to last,
   Thou dost put out, and quite consuming send
                              To endles end.

O bragging foe, where is the endles wast
   Of conquer'd states, whereby such fame you got?
What! doth their memory no longer last?
Both ruines, ruiners, and ruin'd plott
                              Be quite forgott.

But God shall sitt in his eternall chaire,
   Which he prepared to give his judgments high ;
Thither the world for justice shall repaire:
   Thence he to all, his judgments shall apply
                              Perpetually.

Thou, Lord, also th' oppressed wilt defend,
   That they to thee in troublous tyme may flee:
They that know thee, on thee their trust will bend,
   For thou Lord, found by them wilt ever be
                              That seake to thee.

O, praise the Lord, this Syon-dweller good;
   Shew foorth his actes, and this as act most high:
That he enquiring, doth require just blood,
   Which he forgetteth not, nor letteth dy
                              Th' afflicted cry.

Have mercy, mercy, Lord, I once did say,
   Ponder the paines which on me loaden be
By them whose mindes on hatefull thoughts do stray:
   Thou, Lord, that from death-gates hast lifted me,
                              I call to thee.

That I within the portes most bewtifull
   Of Sions daughter may sound foorth thy praise:
That I, ev'n I, of heav'nly comfort full,
   May only joy in all thy saving waies
                              Through out my daies.

No sooner said, but lo, mine enymies sinck
   Down in the pitt which they them selves had wrought:
And in that nett which they well hidden think,
   Is their own foote, led by their own ill thought,
                              Most surely caught.

For then the Lord in judgment showes to raign.
   When godlesse men be snar'd in their own snares:
When wicked soules be turned to hellish pain,
   And that forgettfull sort which never cares
                              What God prepares.

But, on the other side, the poore in sprite
   Shall not be scrapt, from out of heav'nly score:
Nor meeke abiding of the pacient wight
   Yet perish shall (although his paine be sore)
                              For ever more.

Up, Lord, and judge the Gentiles in thy right,
   And lett not man have upper hand of thee:
With terrors greate, O Lord, doe thou them fright:
That by sharp proofes the heathen them selves may see
                              But men to be.

PSALM X.

Ut quid, Domine?

   Why standest thou soe farre,
   O God, our only starre,
   In time most fitt for thee
   To help who vexed be!
For lo, with pride, the wicked man
Still plagues the poore the most he can:
O, lett proud hym be throughly caught
In craft of his own crafty thought.

   For he him self doth praise
   When he his lust doth ease:
   Extolling rav'nous gaine,
   But doth God's self disdaine.
Nay so proud is his puffed thought,
That after God he never sought:
But rather much he fancies this;
The name of God a fable is.

   For while his waies doe prove,
   On them he setts his love;
   Thy judgments are to hie,
   He can them not espy.
Therefore he doth defy all those
That dare them selves to him oppose:
And saieth in his bragging hart,
This gotten blisse, shall never part,

   Nor he removed be,
   Nor danger ever see:
   Yet from his mouth doth spring
   Cursing and cosening;
Under his tongue do harbour'd ly
Both mischief and iniquity.
For proof, ofte laine in wait he is,
In secrete by-way villages.

   In such a place unknown
   To slay the hurtlesse one;
   With wincking eies, ay bent
   Against the innocent,
Like lurking lion in his den,
He waites to spoile the simple men:
Whom to their losse he still doth gett,
When once he draw'th his wily nett.

   O, with how simple look
   He ofte laieth out his hooke!
   And with how humble showes
   To trapp poore soules he goes!
Thus freely, saieth he in his sprite,
God sleepes, or hath forgotten quite;
His farr-of sight now hud winck is,
He leisure wants to mark all this.

   Then rise, and come abroad,
   O Lord, our only God:
   Lift up thy heav'nly hand,
   And by the silly stand.
Why should the evill, so evill, despise
The pow'r of thy through-seeing eyes?
And why should he in hart so hard
Say, thou dost not thine own regard ?

   But nak'd, before thine eyes,
   All wrong and mischief lies:
   For of them in thy handes
   The ballance ev'nly standes.
But who aright poore-minded be
Committ their cause, them selves to thee,
The succour of the succourles,
The father of the fatherles.

   Breake thou the wicked arme,
   Whose fury bendes to harme:
   Search them, and wicked he
   Will straight way nothing be.
O Lord, we shall thy title sing,
Ever and ever, to be king;
Who hast the heath'ny folk destroi'd
From out thy land by them anoi'd.

   Thou op'nest heav'nly dore
   To praiers of the poore:
   Thou first prepar'd their mind,
   Then eare to them enclind;
O, be thou still the orphan's aid,
That poore from ruyne may be staid:
Least we should ever feare the lust
Of earthly man, a lord of dust.

PSALM XI.

In Domino confido.

Since I do trust Iehoua still,
Your fearfull wordes why do you spill?
That like a bird to some strong hill
          I now should fall a flyeng.

Behould the evill have bent their bow,
And sett their arrowes in a row,
To give unwares a mortall blow
          To hartes that hate all lyeng:

But that in building they begunn
With ground-plotts fall, shall be undunn:
For what, alas, have just men donn?
          In them no cause is growing.

God in his holy temple is:
The throne of heav'n is only his:
Naught his all seeing sight can misse;
          His ey-lidds peise our going.

The Lord doth search the just man's reynes,
But hates, abhorrs, the wicked brains,
On them stormes, brimstone, coales he raines:
          That is their share assigned.

But so of happy other side
His lovely face on them doth bide,
In race of life their feete to guide
          Who be to God enclined.

PSALM XII.

Salvum me fac.

Lord, helpe, it is hygh tyme for me to call,
No men are left that charity doth love:
Nay, ev'n the race of good men are decai'd.

Of things vaine with vaine mates they babble all;
Their abiect lipps, no breath but flattry move,
Sent from false hart, on double meaning staid.

But thou, O Lord, give them a thorough fall:
Those lyeing lipps from cosoning head remove,
In falshood wrapt, but in their pride displaid.

Our tongues, say they, beyond them all shall goe:
We both have pow'r, and will our tales to tell:
For what lord rules our brave embolden brest?

Ah ! now ev'n for their sakes, that tast of wo,
Whom troubles tosse, whose natures need doth quell;
Ev'n for the sighes, true sighes of man distrest:

I will gett up, saith God, and my help show
Against all them, that against hym do swell:
Maugre his foes, I will him sett at rest.

These are Gods wordes, Gods words are ever pure:
Pure, purer then the silver throughly tride,
When fire seav'n tymes hath spent his earthy parts.

Then thou (O Lord) shalt keepe the good still sure:
By thee preserv'd, in thee they shall abide:
Yea, in no age thy blisse from them departes.

Thou sees't each side the walking doth endure
Of these badd folks, more lifted up with pride,
Which if it last, wo to all simple harts.

PSALM XIII.

Usque quo, Domine ?

How long, O Lord, shall I forgotten be?
                  What? ever?
How long wilt thou thy hidden face from me
                  Dissever?

How long shall I consult with carefull sprite
                  In anguish?
How long shall I with foes triumphant might
                  Thus languish?

Behold me, Lord; let to thy hearing creep
                  My crying ;
Nay, give me eyes and light, least that I sleep
                  In dying:

Least my foe bragg, that in my ruyne he
                  Prevailed:
And at my fall they joy that, troublous, me
                  Assailed.

Noe! noe! I trust on thee, and joy in thy
                  Greate pitty:
Still therefore, of thy graces shall be my
                  Songs ditty.

PSALM XIV.

Dixit insipiens.

The foolish man by flesh and fancy ledd,
His guilty hart with this fond thought hath fed:
          There is noe God that raigneth.

And so thereafter he and all his mates
Do workes, which earth corrupt, and Heaven hates:
          Not one that good remaineth.

Even God him self sent down his piercing ey,
If of this clayy race he could espy
          One, that his wisdome learneth.

And loe, he findes that all a strayeng went:
All plung'd in stincking filth, not one well bent,
          Not one that God discerneth.

O maddnes of these folkes, thus loosly ledd!
These caniballs, who, as if they were bread,
          Gods people do devower:

Nor ever call on God; but they shall quake
More then they now do bragg, when he shall take
          The just into his power.

Indeede the poore, opprest by you, you mock:
Their councells are your common jesting stock:
          But God is their recomfort.

Ah, when from Syon shall the saver come,
That Jacob, freed by thee, may glad become,
          And Israel full of comfort?

PSALM XV.

Domine, quis habitabit.

In tabernacle thine, O Lord, who shall remaine?
Lord of thy holy hill, who shall the rest obtaine?
Ev'n he that leades a life of uncorrupted traine, 
Whose deedes of righteous hart, whose harty wordes be plain:
Who with deceitfull tongue hath never us'd to faine;
Nor neighboure hurtes by deede, nor doth with slander stain:
Whose eyes a person vile doth hold in vile disdaine,
But doth, with honor greate, the godly entertaine:
Who othe and promise given doth faithfully maintain,
Although some worldly losse thereby he may sustain;
From bityng usury who ever doth refraine:
Who sells not guiltlesse cause for filthy love of gain,
Who thusproceedes for ay, in sacred mount shall raign.

PSALM XVI.

Conserva me.

Save me, Lord; for why, thou art
All the hope of all my hart:
   Wittnesse thou, my soule, with me,
That to God, my God, I say;
Thou, my Lord, thou art my stay,
   Though my workes reach not to thee.

This is all the best I prove:
Good and godly men I love :
   And forsee their wretched paine,
Who to other gods doe runne:
Their blood offrings I do shunne;
   Nay, to name their names disdaine.

God my only portion is,
And of my childes part the blisse:
   He then shall maintaine my lott.
Say then, is not my lott found
In a goodly pleasant ground?
   Have not I faire partage gott?

Ever Lord I will blesse thee,
Who dost ever councell me,
   Ev'n when Night with his black wing
Sleepy Darknes doth orecast,
In my inward raines I tast
   Of my faultes and chastening.

My eyes still my God reguard,
And he my right hand doth guard;
   So can I not be opprest,
So my hart is fully gladd,
So in joy my glory cladd:
   Yea, my flesh in hope shall rest.

For I know the deadly grave
On my soule noe pow'r shall have:
   For I know thou wilt defend
Even the body of thine own
Deare beloved holy one
   From a fowle corrupting end.

Thou lifes path wilt make me knowe,
In whose view doth plenty growe
   All delights that soules can crave;
And whose bodies placed stand
On thy blessed making hand,
   They all joies like-endless have.

PSALM XVII.

Exaudi, Domine, justitiam.

My suite is just, just Lord, to my suite hark,
I plaine: sweete Lord, my plaint for pitty mark.
   And, since my lipps faine not to thee,
   Thyne eares vouchsave to bend to me.

O, let my sentence passe from thine own face:
Shew that thine eyes respect a faithfull case,
   Thou that by proofe accquainted art
   With inward secretts of my hart.

Where silent Night might seeme all faultes to hide,
Then was I, by thy searching insight tride:
   And then by thee, was guiltlesse found
   From ill word, and ill meaning sound.

Not waighing ought how fleshly fancies runn,
Ledd by thy word, the rav'ners stepps I shun;
   And pray that still you guide my way,
   Least yet I slipp, or goe astray.

I say againe that I have cal'd on thee,
And boldly saie thou wilt give eare to me:
   And let my wordes, my cries ascend,
   Which to thy self my soule will send.

Show then, O Lord, thy wondrous kindnesse show:
Make us in mervailes of thy mercy know,
   That thou by faithfull men wilt stand,
   And save them from rebellious hand.

Then keepe me as the apple of an ey:
In thy wings shade then lett me hidden ly,
   From my destroyeng wicked foes,
   Who for my death do me enclose.

Their eies doe swimme, their face doth shine in fatt,
And cruell wordes their swelling tongues do chatt;
   And yet their high hartes looke so low
   As how to watch our overthrow.

Now like a lion, gaping to make praies,
Now like his whelpe, in denne, that lurking staies:
   Up, Lord, prevent those gaping jawes,
   And bring to naught those watching pawes.

Save me from them, thou usest as thy blade;
From men, I say, and from mens worldly trade:
   Whose life doth seeme most greatly blest,
   And count this life their portion best.

Whose bellies soe with dainties thou dost fill,
And soe with hidden treasures graunt their will:
   That they in riches floorish doe,
   And children have to leave it to.

What would they more? And I would not their case:
My joy shal be pure; to enjoy thy face,
   When waking of this sleepe of mine,
   I shall see thee in likenesse thine.

PSALM XVIII.

Diligam te.

Thee will I love, O Lord, with all my hartes delight,
   My strength, my strongest rock, which my defence hast born:
My God, and helping God, my might, and trustfull might,
   My never-pierced shield, my ever-saving horne,
   My refuge, refuge then, when moste I am forlorne:
Whom then shall I invoke, but thee most worthy praise,
On whom (against my foes) my only safty staies?

On me the paines of death allready gan to pray:
   The fludds of wickednesse on me did horrors throw;
Like in a winding sheete, wretch, I already lay,
   This my distresse to God, with wailefull cries I show:
   All-ready, ready to my snaring grave to goe,
My cries climb'd up, and he bent down from sacred throne
His eyes unto my case, his eares unto my moane.

And so the earth did fall to tremble and to quake,
   The mountaines proudly high, and their foundations bent
With motion of his rage, did to the bottome shake.
   He came, but came with smoake, from out his nostrells sent:

He bow'd the heav'ns, and from the bow'd heav'ns did descend
With hugy darknes, which aboute his feete did wend.

The cherubins their backs, the windes did yeild their wings
   To beare his sacred flight; in secrete place then clos'd;
About which he dimme cloudes, like a pavillion brings
   Cloudes ev'n of waters darke, and thickest aire compos'd;
   But streight his shining eyes this misty masse disclos'd:
Then haile, then firie coales, then thundred heav'nly sire,
Then spake he his lowd voice, then hailstones, coles, and fire.

Then out his arrowes fly: and streight they scattred been
   Lightning on lightning he did for their wrack augment;
The gulphes of waters then were through their chanells seen:
   The worldes foundations then lay bare; because he shent
   With blasting breath, O Lord, that in thy chiding went.
Then sent he from above, and tooke me from below,
Ev'n from the waters depth, my God preserv'd me soe.

So did he save me from my mighty furious foe,
   So did he save me from their then prevailing hate:
For they had caught me up when I was weake in woe:
   But he, staff of my age, he staid my stumbling state:
   This much: yet more, when I by him this freedom gate,
By him, because I did find in his eysight grace,
He lifted me, unto a largly noble place.

My justice, my iust handes thus did the Lord reward,
   Because I walk'd his waies, nor gainst him evilly went:
Still to his judgmentes look't, still for his statutes car'd:
   Sound and upright with him, to wickednes not bent.
   Therefore, I say again, this goodnes he me sent,
As he before his eyes did see my justice stand,
According as he saw the purenes of my hand.

Meeke to the meeke thou art, the good thy goodnes tast:
   Pure, to the pure, thou deal'st with crooked crookedly.
Up then, thou lifts the poore, and downe the proud wilt cast;
   Up, thou dost light, my light, and cleare my darkned ey.
   I hoastes by thee orecome; by thee ore walles I fly:
Thy way is soundly sure, thy word is purely tride:
To them that trust in thee, a shield thou dost abide.

For who is God besides this greate Iehova oures?
   And so besides our God, who is indu'd with might?
This God then girded me in his all-mighty pow'rs,
   He made my combrous way, to me most plainly right:
   To match with lightfoote staggs, he made my foote so light
That I climb'd highest hill; he me warre points did show,
Strengthning mine armes, that they could breake an iron bow

Thou gav'st me saving shield; thy right hand was my stay;
   Me in encreasing still, thy kindnesse did maintaine;
Unto my strengthned stepps, thou didst enlardge the way,
   My heeles, and plantes, thou didst from stumbling slip sustain;
   What foes I did pursue, my force did them attain,
That I ere I retorn'd, destroi'd them utterly,
With such brave woundes, that they under my feete did ly.

For why? my fighting strength, by thy strength, strengthned was:
   Not I, but thou throwst down, those who gainst me do rise,
Thou gavest me their necks, on them thou mad'st me passe:
   Behoid they cry, but who to them his helpe applies?
   Nay, unto thee they cri'd, but thou heard'st not their cries:
I bett those folkes as small as dust, which wind doth raise,
I bett them as the clay is bett, in beaten waies.

Thus freed from troublous men, thou makest me to raign;
   Yea, thou makst me be serv'd by folks I never knew:
My name their eares, their eares their harts to me enchain'd:
   Ev'n feare makes strangers shew much love, though much untrue.
   But they do faile, and in their mazed corners rue:
Then live Iehoua still, my rock still blessed be:
Lett hym be lifted up, that hath preserved me.

He that is my revenge, in whom I realmes subdue,
   Who freed me from my foes, from rebells garded me,
And ridd me from the wrongs which cruell witts did brew.
   Among the Gentiles then I (Lord) yeeld thancks to thee,
   I to thy name will sing, and thus my song shall be;
He nobly saves his king, and kindnes keepes in store,
For David his anoint' and his seed evermore.

PSALM XIX.

Cceli enarrant.

The heav'nly frame setts foorth the fame
   Of him that only thunders;
The firmament, so strangly bent,
   Showes his hand-working wonders.

Day unto day, doth it display,
   Their course doth it acknowledge:
And night to night succeeding right
   In darknes teach cleare knowledg.

There is no speach, nor language, which
   Is soe of skill bereaved:
But of the skies the teaching cries
   They have heard and conceaved.

There be no eyne, but read the line
   From soe faire book proceeding;
Their wordes be sett in letters greate
   For ev'ry bodies reading.

Is not he blind that doth not find
   The tabernacle builded
There by his grace, for sunnes faire face,
   In beames of beuty guilded.

Who foorth doth come, like a bridegroome
   From out his vailing places:
As gladd is hee, as giantes be
   To runne their mighty races.

His race is ev'n, from endes of heav'n,
   About that vault he goeth:
There be no realmes hid from his beames,
   His heate to all he throweth.

O law of his, how perfect tis!
   The very soule amending;
Gods wittnes sure for ay doth dure,
   To simplest, wisdome lending.

Gods doomes be right, and cheere the sprite:
   All his commandments being
So purely wise they give the eies
   Both light, and force of seeing.

Of him the feare, doth cleannes beare,
   And soe endures for ever:
His judgments be self verity,
   They are unrighteous never.

Then what man would so soone seeke gold,
   Or glittring golden money?
By them is past, in sweetest tast,
   Honny, or combe of honny.

By them is made thy servantes trade,
   Most circumspectly guarded:
And who doth frame to keepe the same
   Shall fully be rewarded.

Who is the man, that ever can
   His faultes know and acknowledg!
O Lord, dense me from faultes that be
   Most secret from all knowledg.

Thy servant keepe, lest in him creepe
   Presumptuous sinnes offences:
Let them not have me for their slave,
   Nor raigne upon my sences.

Soe shall my sprite be still upright
   In thought and conversation;
Soe shall I bide, well purifide
   From much abbomination.

Soe lett wordes sprong from my weake tongue,
   And my hartes meditation;
My saving might, Lord, in thy sight
   Receave good acceptation.

PSALM XX.

Exaudiat te Dominus.

       Lett God the Lord heare thee,
Even in the day when most thy troubles be:
       Let name of Jacob's God,
       When thou on it dost cry,
Defend thee still from all thy foes abroad.

       From santuary by
Let him come downe, and helpe to thee apply
       From Sion's holy topp
       Thence lett him undertake
With heav'nly strength thy earthly strength to propp.

       Lett him notorious make,
That in good part he did thy offrings take.
       Let fire for triall burne
       (Yea, fire from him self sent)
Thy offrings, soe that they to ashes turne.

       And soe lett him consent
To graunt thy will, and perfect thy enlent,
       That in thy saving, we
       May ioy, and banners raise
Up to our God, when thy suites graunted be.

       Now in me knowledge saies,
That God from fall his own annointed staies.
       From heav'nly holy land
       I know that he heares mee;
Yea, heares with powres, and help of helpfull hand.

       Let trust of some men be
In chariotts arm'd, others in chivalry;
       But lett all our conceite,
       Upon Gods holy name,
Who is our Lord, with due remembrance waite.

       Behold their broken shame!
We stand upright while they their fall did frame.
       Assist us, Saviour deere;
       Let that king daine to heare,
When as to him our praiers do appeare.

PSALM XXI.

Domine, in virtute tua.

New joy, new joy unto our king,
   Lord, from thy strength is growing;
Lord, what delight to him doth bring
   His safly, from thee flowing.

Thou hast giv'n what his hart woulde have,
   Nay, soone as he but moved,
His lipps to aske, what he would crave,
   He had as him behoved.

Yea, thou prevent'st ere aske he could,
   With many lib'rall blessing,
Crown of his head with crown of gold
   Of purest mettall dressing.

He did but aske a life of thee,
   Thou him a long life gavest:
Loe ev'n unto eternity
   The life of hym thou savest.

We may well call his glory greate,
   That springs from thy salvation:
Thou, thou it is, that hast him sett
   In soe high estimation.

Like storehouse thou of blessings mad'st
   This man of everlasting:
Unspekably his hart thou glad'st,
   On hym thy count'naunce casting.

And why all this? because our king
   In heav'n his trust hath laied;
He only leanes on highest thing,
   Soe from base slipp is staid.

Thy hand thy foes shall overtake,
   That thee so evill hated:
Thou as in fyery ov'n shalt make
   These mates to be amated.

The Lord on them with causfull ire
   Shall use destroying power:
And flames of never-quenched fire
   Shall these badd wightes devower.

Their fruite shalt thou from earthly face
   Send unto desolation:
And from among the humane race
   Roote out their generation.

For they to overthrow thy will
   Full wilyly entended:
But all their bad mischevous skill
   Shall fruitlessly be ended.

For like a mark thou shalt a row
   Sett them in pointed places:
And ready make thy vengefull bow
   Against their guilty faces.

Lord, in thy strength, Lord, in thy might,
   Thy honor high be raised;
And so shall in our songs delight
   Thy power still be praised.

PSALM XXII.

Deus, Deus meus.

My God, my God, why hast thou me forsaken?
Wo me, from me why is thy presence taken?
Soe farre from seeing, mine unhealthfull eyes:
Soe farre from heariug to my roaring cries.

O God, my God, I crie while day appeareth:
But God, thy eare my crying never heareth.
O God, the night is privie to my plaint,
Yet to my plaint thou hast not audience lent.

But thou art holy, and dost hold thy dwelling
Where Israell thy lawdes is ever telling;
Our fathers still to thee their trust did beare;
They trusted, and by thee delivered were.

They were sett free, when they upon thee called,
They hop'd on thee, and they were not appalled.
But I a worme, not I of mankind am,
Nay, shame of men, the peoples scorning game.

The lookers now at me, poore wretch, be mocking,
With mowes, and nodds, they stand about me flocking:
Let God help him (say they) whom he did trust;
Let God save hym in whom was all his lust.

And yet even from the wombe thy selfe did'st take me:
At mother's brests, thou did'st good hope betake me:
No sooner my child eyes could looke abroade,
Then I was giv'n to thee, thou wert my God.

O, be not farre, since paine so neerly presseth,
And since there is not one who it redresseth:
I am enclos'd with yong bulls madded rowt,
Nay, Basan's mighty bulls close me about.

With gaping mouthes, these folkes on me have chardged,
Like lions fierce, with roring jawes enlarged:
On me all this, who do like waters slide,
Whose loosed bones quite out of joynt be wried.

Whose hart, with these huge flames, like wax oreheated,
Doth melt away, though it be inmost seated:
My moistning strength is like a pottsheard dried,
My cleaving tongue close to my roofe doth bide.

And now am brought, alas! brought by thy power
Unto the dust of my deathes running hower:
For bawling doggs have compast me about,
Yea, worse than doggs, a naughty wicked rowt.

My humble handes, my fainting feete they pearced;
They Iooke, they gaze, my bones might be rehearsed:
Of my poore weedes they do partition make,
And doe cast lotts, who should my vesture take.

But be not farre, O Lord, my strength, my comfort,
Hasten to help me in this deepe discomfort:
Ah, from the sword yet save my vitall sprite,
My desolated life from dogged might.

From lions mouth (O help) and show to heare me,
By aiding, when fierce Vnicornes come neere me:
To brethern then I will declare thy fame,
And with these wordes, when they meete, praise thy name.

Who feare the Lord, all praise and glory beare hym,
You Israells seed, you come of Jacob, feare hym:
For Hee hath not abhor'd, nor yet disdain'd
The silly wretch, with fowle affliction stain'd.

Nor hid from him his faces faire appearing,
But when he cal'd, this Lord did give hym hearing.
In congregation greate I will praise thee:
Who feare thee shall my vowes performed see.

Th' afflicted then shall eate, and be well pleased;
And God shalbe by those his seakers praised.
Indeede, O you, you that be such of mind,
You shall the life that ever liveth find.

But what? I say, from earthes remotedst border,
Unto due thoughts, mankind his thoughts shall order;
And turne to God, and all the nations be
Made worshippers, before allmighty Thee.

And reason, since the crowne to God pertaineth,
And that by right upon all realmes he raigneth.
They that be made ev'n fatt with earthes fatt good
Shall feede, and laud the giver of their food.

To him shall kneele even who to dust bee stricken,
Even hee whose life no helpe of man can quicken:
His service shall from child to child desend,
His doomes one age shall to another send.

PSALM XXIII.

Dominus regit me.

The Lord, the Lord my shepheard is,
     And so can never I
       Tast missery.
He rests me in greene pasture his:
     By waters still and sweete
       He guides my feete.

Hee me revives; leades me the way,
     Which righteousnesse doth take,
       For his name sake.
Yea, though I should through valleys stray
     Of deathes dark shade, I will
       Noe whitt feare ill.

For thou, deere Lord, thou me besett'st;
     Thy rodd and thy staff be
       To comfort me:
Before me thou a table sett'st,
     Even when foes envious eye
       Doth it espy.

Thou oil'st my head, thou fill'st my cupp,
     Nay, more, thou endlesse good,
       Shalt give me food.

To thee, I say, ascended up,
     Where thou, the Lord of all,
       Dost hold thy hall.

PSALM XXIV.

Domini est terra.

The earth is Gods, and what the globe of earth containeth,
   And all who in that globe doe dwell:
For by his pow'r the land upon the ocean raigneth,
   Through him the fludds to their bedds fell.

Who shall clime to the hill which God's own hill is named?
   Who shall stand in his holy place?
He that hath hurtles handes, whose inward hart is framed
   All purenesse ever to embrace.

Who shunning vanity and workes of vainenesse leaving,
   Vainly doth not puff up his mind;
Who never doth deceave, and much lesse his deceaving
   With penury doth falsly bind.

A blessing from the Lord, from God of his salvation
   Sweete rightuousnesse shall he receave;
Jacob, this is thy seede, God seeking generation,
   Who search of Gods face never leave.

Lift up your heades, you gates, and you dores ever biding;
   In comes the King of Glory bright:
Who is this glorious King? in might and power riding?
   The Lord, whose strength makes battailes fight.

Lift up your heades, you gates, and you dores ever biding;
   In comes the King of glory bright:
Who is this glorious King? the lord of armies guiding?
   Even He the King of glory hight.

PSALM XXV.

Ad te, Domine.

   To thee, O Lord most just,
     I lift my inward sight:
   My God, in thee I trust,
     Lett me not ruine quight:
Let not those foes, that me annoy,
On my complaint build np their joy.

   Sure, sure, who hope in thee,
     Shall never suffer shame:
   Lett them confounded be
     That causlesse wrongs doe frame.
Yea, Lord, to me thy waies doe show;
Teach me, thus vext, what path to goe.

   Guide me as thy truth guides;
     Teach me for why thou art
   The God in whom abidesT
     he saving me from smart.
For never day such changing wrought,
That I from trust in thee was brought.

   Remember, only King,
     Thy mercies tendernesse:
   To thy remembrance bring
     Thy kindnesse, lovingnesse.
Let those things thy remembrance grave,
Since they eteruall essence have.

   But, Lord, remember not
     Sins brew'd in youthfull glasse:
   Nor my rebellious blott,
     Since youth and they do passe:
But in thy kindnes me record,
Ev'n for thy mercies sake, O Lord.

   Of grace and righteousnesse
     The Lord such plenty hath;
   That he deignes to expresse
     To sinning men his path:
The meeke he doth in judgment leade,
And teach the humble how to tread.

   And what thinck you, may be
     The pathes of my greate God?
   Ev'n spotlesse verity
     And mercy spredd abroad,
To such as keepe his covenaunt,
And on his testimonies plant.

   O Lord, for thy name sake,
     Lett my iniquity
   Of thee some mercy take,
     Though it be greate in me:
Oh, is there one with his feare fraught?
He shall be by best teacher taught.

   Lo, how his blessing budds
     Inward, an inward rest;
   Outward, all outward goodes
     By his seede eke possest.
For such he makes his secrett know,
To such hee doth his cov'nant show.

   Where then should my eyes be,
     But still on this Lord sett?
   Who doth and will sett free
     My feete from tangling nett.
O, look, O help, lett mercy fall,
For I am poore and least of all.

   My woes are still encreast;
     Shield me from these assaultes:
   See how I am opprest,
     And pardon all my faultes.
Behold my foes, what stoare they be,
Who hate, yea, hate me cruelly.

   My soule, which thou didst make,
     Now made, O Lord, maintaine;
   And me from these ills take,
     Lest I rebuke sustaine.
For thou the Lord, thou only art,
Of whom the trust lives in my hart.

   Lett my uprightness gaine
     Some safety unto me:
   I say, and say againe,
     My hope is all in thee.
In fine, deliver Israel,
O Lord, from all his troubles fell.

PSALM XXVI.

Judica me, Domine.

   Lord, judge me and my case,
   For I have made my race
Within the boundes of innocence to bide:
   And setting thee for scope
   Of all my trustfull hope;
I held for sure, that I should never slide.

   Prove me, O Lord most high,
   Me with thy touchstone try;
Yea, sound my reynes, and inmost of my hart.
   For so thy loving hand
   Before my eyes doth stand,
That from thy truth I never will depart.

   I did not them frequent,
   Who be to vainesse bent,
Nor kept with base dissemblers company.
   Nay, I did ev'n detest
   Of wicked wights the neast,
And from the haunts of such bad folks did fly.

   In th' innocence of me
   My handes shall washed be;
And with those handes about thy Alter waite;
   That I may still expresse
   With voice of thanckfullnes
The works perform'd by thee, most wondrous greate.

   Lord, I have loved well
   The house where thou dost dwell,
Ev'n where thou mak'st thy honnor's biding place.
   Sweete Lord, write not my soule
   Within the sinner's rowle:
Nor my life's cause match with blood seekers case.

   With handes of wicked shifts,
   With right hands stained with gifts.
But while I walk in my unspotted waies
   Redeeme and show mee grace
   So I in publique place
Sett on plaine ground will thee Jehovah praise.

PSALM XXVII.

Dominus illuminatio.

The shining Lord he is my light;
   The strong God my salvation is:
Who shall be able me to fright?
   This Lord with strength my life doth blisse:
                       And shall I then
                       Feare might of men?

When wicked folke, even they that be
   My foes, to uttmost of their pow'r,
With raging jawes inviron me,
   My very flesh for to devow'r:
                       They stumble so,
                       That down they go.

Then though against me armies were,
   My courage should not be dismaid:
Though battailes btunt, I needes must beare,
   While battailes brunt, on me were laid,
                       In this I would
                       My trust still hold.

One thing in-deede I did, and will
   For ever crave: that dwell I may
In howse of high Jehova still,
   On beautie his, mine eyes to stay,
                       And looke into
                       His temple too.

For when greate griefes to me be ment,
   In tabernacle his, he will
Hide me, ev'n closely in his tent:
   Yea, noble height of rocky hill
                       He makes to be
                       A seate for me.

Now, now shall he lift up my head
   On my besieging enimies:
So I in temple his shall spread
   Offrings of joy and sacrifice:
                       And song accord,
                       To praise the Lord.

Heare, Lord, when I my voice display,
   Heare to have mercy eake of me:
Seeke yee my face, when thou did'st say,
   In truth of hart, I answ'rd thee,
                       O Lord, I will
                       Seeke thy face still.

Hide not therefore from me that face;
   Since all my aid in thee I gott:
In rage, thy servaunt doe not chase;
   Forsake not me, O, leave me not,
                       O God of my
                       Salvation hye.

Though fathers care and mothers love
   Abandon'd me, yet my decay
Should be restor'd by hym above:
   Teach, Lord, Lord, leade me thy right way,
                       Because of those
                       That be my foes.

Unto whose ever-hating lust
   Oh, give me not, for there are sprong
Against me wittnesses unjust,
   Even such, I say, whose lying tongue
                       Fiercely affordes
                       Most cruell wordes.

What had I been, except I had
   Beleev'd Gods goodnes for to see,
In land with living creatures glad?
   Hope, trust in God, be strong, and hee
                       Unto thy hart
                       Shall joy impart.

PSALM XXVIII.

Ad te, Domine.

To thee, Lord, my cry I send;
   O my strength, stopp not thine eare:
   Least if answeare thou forbeare,
I be like them that descend
To the pitt, where flesh doth end.

Therefore while that I may cry,
   While I that way hold my handes
   Where thy sanctuary standes,
To thy self those wordes apply,
Which from suing voice do fly.

Linck not me in self same chaine
   With the wicked working folk;
   Who their spotted thoughtes to cloak,
Neighbours friendly entertaine,
When in hartes they malice meane.

Spare not them, give them reward,
   As their deedes have purchas'd it,
   As deserves their wicked witt:
Fare they as their handes have far'd,
Ev'n so be their guerdon shar'd.

To thy workes they give no ey;
   Lett them be thrown down by thee:
   Lett them not restored be.
But lett me give praises high
To the Lord, that heares my cry.

That God is my strength, my shield:
   All my trust on him was sett,
   And soe I did safetie gett:
Soe shall I with joy be fil'd,
Soe my songes his laudes shall yeeld.

God on them his strength doth lay,
  Who his anointed helped have;
  Lord, then still thy people save;
Blesse thine heritage, I say,
Feede and lift them up for ay.

PSALM XXIX.

Afferte Domino.

Ascribe unto the Lord of light,
Ye men of pow'r, ev'n by birth right,
Ascribe all glory and all might.

Ascribe due glory to his name;
And in his ever glorious frame
Of sanctuary doe the same.

His voice is on the waters found,
His voice doth threatning thunders sound,
Yea, through the waters doth resound.

The voice of that Lord ruling us
Is strong, though hee be gratious,
And ever, ever glorious.

By voice of high Iehoua we
The highest cedars broken see,
Ev'n cedars which on Liban be.

Nay, like yong calves in leapes are born,
And Liban self with natures skorn:
And Shirion, like young unicorn.

His voice doth flashing flames devide;
His voice have trembling desertes tride;
Ev'n deserts, where the Arabs bide.

His voice makes hindes their calves to cast:
His voice makes bald the forrest wast:
But in his church his fame is plast.

He sitts on seas, he endlesse raignes,
His strength his peoples strength maintaines,
Which blest by him in peace remaines.