Psalm CXLI. Domine clamavi ad te, &c.
I
My God, when in distress I cry,
And on my long-wing'd sighes unto Thee fly,
Make haste to meet me, Come away,
Ah, do no longer from me stay,
But by Thy Presence shew, Thou hearst me, when I pray!
II
Let my requests like incense rise,
Not to o're-cloud, but to perfume the skies!
And when the day resigns to night,
Let it again receive new light,
And by my Sacrifices Flames become more bright!
III
Before my mouth, Lord, set a guard,
And let its double gates be alwayes barr'd!
Keep my heart too, and be its guide,
That to no ill it turn aside,
And lest I for them long, sins flattring pleasures hide!
IV
The just mans check I can endure,
His stroke wounds not, but do's advance the cure;
Let him smite me, 't shall be instead
Of Ointment, to refresh my head,
Ointment which cheares the living, and preserves the Dead!
V
For him I'll pray, as he for me,
His blowes were balm, and so my Words shall be;
When his curs'd judges overthrown
From their great heights shall be cast down,
And in the plagues they bear see all the wrongs they 'have done.
VI
Our scattred bones no buriall have,
Nor know the kind Corruption of the Grave;
Like th' armes of some great tree they ly,
Which while its head was rais'd on high,
Stood the woods glory, now the scorn of all pass by.
VII
But still my eyes are up to Thee,
Thou art my Trust, and shal't my refuge be;
Let not my Soul of succour fail,
And though the Wicked me assail,
Let not his open force, or hidden plots prevail!
VIII
Break all the snares, which he has made,
Or let them only for himself be lai'd!
Down in his own pits Let him fall,
In vain for help, or succour call,
Whilst I, for whom he made them, have no hurt at all!
