XII.
1
The Godlie ceaseth; succour Lord:
The faithfull ar growne few
2
Amongst the sonnes of men, in speech
They vanitie persew.
Each with his neighbour, with the lip
Of flattrie speek they faire,
But wt a heart and heart within
Their brests by words ensnair.
3
The Lord all lips that licence take,
By flattrie to abuse,
All loftie tongs, expressions proude
Which arrogantlie vse,
4
Sall quite cutt off; which say, our tongues
To ws our ends sall gain:
Our lips ar ours: Who sall, as Lord,
Their libertie restraine?
5
The poore, opprest and robt, to right,
Bot now will I arise,
The neidie who doe sigh, to save,
From such as them despise,
6
The Lord hath said: The Lord whose words
Are, as the silver, pure,
In earthen fornace sevin tymes find,
Which tryall doeth endure.
7
To them for ever, Thow, O Lord,
Wilt a protector prove,
And from this generation bade,
Preserve them from above.
8
No way wnwalk't the wicked leave,
To each hand turne they then,
When as the vilest ar advanced
Amongst the son̄s of men.
