The .xxij. Psalme.
My
God, my God, why dydest thou, forsake thy pore seruant?
From myne health & my roreynge crye, howe far art thou distant?
By daye I call on the my God, but no answere I heare:
And eke by night, but vnto me no silence doeth appere.
Yet art thou the holye rular of prayse in Israell:
Thou art, I saye, the holy one that emonge them doeth dwell.
Our fathers haue trusted in the, thou haste ben all theyr staye:
They haue trusted in the and thou haste set them free I saye.
They haue cried to the I saye, and are deliuered:
They haue put all theyr trust in the, and are not ashamed.
As for me I am but a worme, I am no mā in dede:
I am an opprobrye of men, of people despised.
So manye as do loke on me, do laugh at me alwaye:
They mocke, they mowe and moue theyr heades, and with them selfe they saye.
He hath lette all thinges to the Lorde, let hym set him at large:
And for the loue he beareth hym, let the same him discharge.
But thou art he (O Lorde) that haste oute of the wombe drawne me:
And in my suckynge dayes I dyd put all my trust in the.
From the daye of my byrthe I haue bene lefte to the onlye:
And from my mothers wombe thou hast ben my God certaynely.
Do not withdraw thy selfe farre of, be not from me absent:
For there is no man for to helpe and trouble is present.
Greate bulles haue compassed me rounde wyth an vnruly route:
And myghtye men of Basan haue beset me round aboute.
Against me haue they opened their mouth wonderfull wyde:
Lyke as a lyon that rampeth and roreth in hys pryde.
I am poured out like water, my bones are set aparte:
And as the wax that is molten, so is in me myne herte.
My strength dryeth vp lyke a shell, and my tonge cleaueth faste:
To my chekes, and into the duste of deathe brought me to haste.
Dogges and ylle men haue me byset, and bounde me in their bandes:
And as a lyon they haue gnawen my fete, & eke myne handes.
I myght haue numbred al my bones, they were sene so planely:
But these men loke vpon me, and are delyted greatly.
They haue diuided emonge them all my garmentes I wotte:
And whyche of them shoulde haue my cote, they haue tryed by lotte.
But thou (O Lorde) be not farre of, O my strength and my powre:
Make haste (O Lorde) thy poore seruaunt for to helpe and succoure.
Delyuer my soule from the sworde, and let not me be torne:
Wyth madde dogges, nor with lyons teeth, nor wyth vnicornes horne.
Thyne holy name will I declare to my brethren eche one:
And prayse the in the middle of the congregacyon.
All ye that feare the Lorde, prayse hym, prayse him all Iacobs seede:
And all the seede of Israel, feare ye the Lord in deede.
For the poore mans afflyctyon he hath not neglected:
Neyther turned away hys face, but hearde, when he cryed.
Beynge in a great concyon, I prayse the Lorde onely:
And in their syghte that do feare hym, my vowes perfourme will I.
The poore & the abiect shal eate, they shal al haue their fyll:
Suche as seke the Lorde, shal prayse hym, & their herte shall lyue styll.
And all the quartars of the earth, shall haue remors of mynde:
And shal conuert them to the Lord, as reasone doeth them bynde.
All the housholdes and families that on the earth be founde:
Shall humble them before hys face, and lye flat on the grounde.
For vnto the Lord only al kingedom doeth appertayne:
And emonge the heathen people the Lorde hym selfe doeth raygne.
The fat and welthy of the earth, shal eate and do worshype:
And all mysers shal bowe to hym, because he doeth them kepe.
All such shal bowe their knees to hym, as do fall in the duste:
Because he kept their lyfe, when that they sayed, nedes dye we muste.
The ofspringe and posteritie shal him serue and obeye:
And for euer more vnto him their trybute shal they paye.
To the people that is not borne, they shall resort and tell:
Hys iustyce and hys equyte because it doeth excell.
