The Psalmes of David The King And Prophet, And Of other holy Prophets, paraphas'd in English: Conferred with the Hebrew Veritie, set forth by B. Arias Montanus, together with the Latine, Greek Septuagint, and Chaldee Paraphrase. By R. B. [i.e. Richard Brathwait] |
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 | The Psalmes of David |  |
Psal. 139. Domine, probasti.
Ad Præstantem, Davidis Psalmus.
1
Thou hast, O Lord, me searched out and knowne,2
My sitting downe, and my up-rising areWithin thy knowledge, cleerer than mine owne:
My thoughts un-thought, thou understandst afarre,
3
My path, my pallet, winnow'd with thy fan,And all my waies thy custome is to scan.
4
For in my tongue there teem's not any word,The breathlesse infant of my pregnant thought,
But loe, un-borne, thou know'st it wholly, Lord,
Though with the organs of my speech un-wrought:
5
Behind, before, thou hast beset me straight,And of thy hand upon me put the waight.
6
It is too wonderfull for me to know,To it[illeg.] cannot it is set so hie:
7
O, from thy spirit whither shall I goe?And whither shall I from thy presence flie?
8
If I ascend the Heavens, the Heavens thee beare;Make I my bed the Hell, loe thou art there.
9
Take I the early-rising mornings wings,And utmost seas my uncouth dwelling make,
10
Even thither me thy hand my leader brings,And thy right hand fast hold on me shall take:
11
Yet sure shall darknesse shrowd me, if I say,The night about me shall be light as day.
12
For light-lesse darknesse, darkneth not from thee,But as the day, before thee shines the night:
277
As darknesse is to thee, so is the light.
13
My reines are but the texture of thy loome.Thou coveredst me within my mothers wombe.
14
For casting me in such a covert mold,My praise shall of thy fearfull wonders tell;
How marvellous thy workes are to behold,
My soule cannot expresse, yet knowes right well.
15
No bone of mine from thee is hid to know,Though close embroidred in the earth below.
16
Thine eyes did on my shapelesse substance looke,And fram'd my members from a formlesse masse;
Each one of them is written in thy booke,
What day they formed were, when none there was.
17
How precious are, O God, thy thoughts to mee,Of their increase what mighty summes I see!
18
To number them, to number were the sand,As oft as I awake, I am with thee:
19
That thou, O God, wouldst slay the wicked band,And men of blouds: Depart ye all from mee:
20
Which speake of thee what mischiefe can devise,And, but lift up in vaine, thine enemies.
21
And doe not I, Lord, them that hate thee, hate,And grieve at those that up against thee rise,
As if with me thy haters held debate,
As if they me despis'd, that thee despise?
22
In hatreds full perfection them I hate,And in the number of my foes relate.
23
Search me, O God, my secret angles sound,And of my heart exactest knowledge take,
Examine mine intentions from their ground,
Of all my thoughts a perfect audit make.
See whether I in sorrowes by-path stray,
And lead me in the everlasting way.
| The Psalmes of David | |