III.
Thus Dauid sung, in straits, when hee
From Absolon his sonne, did flie.
1
O Lord how ar my foes encreast?
Against me manie ryse.
2
How manie of my soule doe say,
(Thy pow're who dare despise)
3
No help's for him in God, but thow,
My sheeld in tyme of neid,
My glory art. When languisching,
Thow (Lord) liftst vp my head.
4
I with my voyce did seek the Lord,
Hee from his holy hill
5
Did ansuer mak. I laid me doun;
Sleep all my fears did still.
6
I wak'd againe, for me the Lord
Sustainde. Ten thousand laid
Of people, raging me around,
Mee cannot mak affreyde.
7
Arise, O Lord, me save my God,
For thow hast foild my foes,
And on the cheikbone smiten all,
That wp against me rose.
8
Thow brocken hast the wicked's teeth.
Salvation doeth alone
To thee belong. Thy blessing, Lord,
Thy people is vpon.