The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney In Three Volumes |
 | I, II. |
 | III. |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
Psalm VI. Domine ne in furore.
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| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| IV. |
 | The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney |  |
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:
Ne let thy rage; of my due punnishment
Become the measure.
While thou art in the heate of thy displeasure:
Ne let thy rage; of my due punnishment
Become the measure.
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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 cruell anguish.
For I am weake, and in my weaknes languish:
Lord help, for ev'n my bones their marrow spend
With cruell 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.
Alas how long my God wilt thou delay me?
Turn thee, sweete Lord, and from this ougly fall
My deere God stay me.
Mercy, ô mercy Lord, for mercies sake,
For death doth kill the wittnes of thy glory,
Can of thy praise the tongues entombed make
A heav'nly story?
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.
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.
And age pul'd on with paines all freshnes fretteth;
The while a swarm of foes with vexing feates
My life besetteth.
Gett hence you evill, who in my ill rejoice,
In all whose works vainenesse is ever raigning:
For God hath heard the weeping sobbing voice
Of my complayning.
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.
They shall be sham'd and vext, that breed my cryeng:
And turn their backs, and straight on backs appeare
Their shamfull flyeng.
| The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney | |