VI.
1
Me to rebuik forbeare, O Lord,
Whill kendled is thine ire,
Nor chasten me whill flameing is
Thy wraith's consumeing fire.
2
On me compassion take, O Lord,
For voyd of strenth am I.
Heal me, O Lord, for in my bons
Sore troubled do I fry
3
Sore troubles vexe my weghted soule,
Bot thow, how long, O Lord?
4
Turne, Lord; O turne, wnto my soule
At length releiff afford.
5
O save me for thy mercies sake,
For none, in death, ther bee
Thee to remember. In the grave
Who sall give thanks to thee?
6
With groaneing weary groune, all night
To suime I make my bed;
My couch I water wt my tears,
In great abundance shed.
7
By reasoun of excessive greiff
Consumed is my sight;
And waxeth old because of all
Mine enemyes' despight.
8
Ye workers of iniquitie
From me do all depart;
9
For, of my mournefull groanes, the voyce
The Lord hath laid to heart.
10
The Lord my prayer hath receav'd,
Who to my suite gave eare;
Sore vexd and (blushing), all my foes
With sudden shame releaue.
