CXL.
1
Mee from the evill man, from men
Who violence do vse,
Deliuer and preserve, O Lord;
2
In harts who mischeeff muse,
3
For war who dayly meet; made scharp
Who haue, as serpents sting,
Their tongs; from whose envenom'd lips
Doth asps' hott poyson spring.
4
Me from the wickeds' hand, O save;
Me from the violent
Preserve, O God; who, to orthrow
My wayes, do wayes invent.
5
For me a snair, evin cords the proud
Have hid and spredd a nett,
Me by the wayside to surpryse;
They grins for me have sett.
6
Lord, thow my God art; heare the voyce
Of my requeist, I sayd.
7
O, God the Lord, my saveing strenth,
In day of armes (belay'd
By foes) thow coveredst my head.
8
Lord, the desires repell,
The wickeds' plots let not prevail,
Lest they with pryd do swell.
9
The speciall who doth me persew,
Them who besett me round,
Of ther owne lips the mischeef may
Quite cover and confound;
10
Vpon them burning coals may fall;
In flames let them be throwne;
In gulfes from whose vast deeps to rise
No regresse back is known.
11
The evill tong'd, not stablish'd, shall
From earth be swept away;
And evill shall the violent
Hunt quickly to decay.
12
The cause of the aflicted wight
I know thow will mantaine;
Yea, (doubtles) thow, O Lord, will right
The poore when they complaine.
13
Due prayse the just wnto thy name
Assuredly shall give;
And wpright ones (by the protect'd)
Shall in thy presence live.
