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A translation of the psalms of David

attempted in the Spirit of Christianity, and adapted to the divine service. By Christopher Smart

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 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 XVI. 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 XXII. 
PSALM XXII.
 XXIII. 
  
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
 XXVI. 
 XXVII. 
 XXVIII. 
 XXIX. 
 XXX. 
 XXXI. 
 XXXII. 
 XXXIII. 
 XXXIV. 
 XXXV. 
 XXXVI. 
 XXXVII. 
 XXXVIII. 
 XXXIX. 
 XL. 
 XLI. 
 XLII. 
 XLIII. 
 XLIV. 
 XLV. 
 XLVI. 
 XLVII. 
 XLVIII. 
 XLIX. 
 L. 
 LI. 
 LII. 
 LIII. 
 LIV. 
 LV. 
 LVI. 
 LVII. 
 LVIII. 
 LIX. 
 LX. 
 LXI. 
 LXII. 
 LXIII. 
 LXIV. 
 LXV. 
 LXVI. 
 LXVII. 
 LXVIII. 
 LXIX. 
 LXX. 
 LXXI. 
 LXXII. 
 LXXIII. 
 LXXIV. 
 LXXV. 
 LXXVI. 
 LXXVII. 
 LXXVIII. 
 LXXIX. 
 LXXX. 
 LXXXI. 
 LXXXII. 
 LXXXIII. 
 LXXXIV. 
  
 LXXXV. 
 LXXXVI. 
 LXXXVII. 
 LXXXVIII. 
 LXXXIX. 
 XC. 
 XCI. 
 XCII. 
 XCIII. 
 XCIV. 
 XCV. 
 XCVI. 
 XCVII. 
 XCVIII. 
  
 XCIX. 
 C. 
  
 CI. 
 CII. 
 CIII. 
  
 CIV. 
 CV. 
 CVI. 
 CVII. 
 CVIII. 
 CIX. 
 CX. 
 CXI. 
 CXII. 
 CXIII. 
 CXIV. 
 CXV. 
 CXVI. 
 CXVII. 
  
 CXVIII. 
 CXIX. 
 CXX. 
 CXXI. 
 CXXII. 
 CXXIII. 
 CXXIV. 
 CXXV. 
 CXXVI. 
 CXXVII. 
 CXXVIII. 
 CXXIX. 
 CXXX. 
 CXXXI. 
 CXXXII. 
 CXXXIII. 
 CXXXIV. 
 CXXXV. 
 CXXXVI. 
 CXXXVII. 
 CXXXVIII. 
 CXXXIX. 
 CXL. 
 CXLI. 
 CXLII. 
 CXLIII. 
 CXLIV. 
 CXLV. 
 CXLVI. 
 CXLVII. 
 CXLVIII. 
  
 CXLIX. 
  
 CL. 
  
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PSALM XXII.

O my God, my God, receive me,
Why am I no more thy care,
Why dost thou recede to leave me
In a state of pain and pray'r?
Lord, thou hearest not, thro' illness
As I weep upon my knees;
All the day, and in the stillness
Of the night I have no ease.
But there is no diminution
Of thy holiness and grace,
Through all change and revolution,
O thou praise of Jacob's race.
Faithful were our sires, and steady
To the hope they built in thee;
And thy gracious hand was ready
To support and set them free.
By thine angel they were aided
As they call'd upon thy name,
And of thy good truth persuaded,
They escap'd disgrace and shame.
But thy servant is neglected
Like a worm upon the turf;
Scarce a man, and disrespected
By the very scum and scurf.
All with smiles of scorn exploding,
As with taunts their spite is fed,
And with ignominy loading,
Shoot their lips and shake their head.

19

“On the Lord for help he waited
“Let the help attend his call,
“If a wretch so vile and hated
“Be of any price at all.”
But thy pow'rful love embrac'd me
Soon as from the womb I sprung;
And in thy remembrance plac'd me
When upon the breasts I hung.
I have walk'd by thy direction
Ever since my natal hour;
Thou the God of my protection,
From my mother's womb, in pow'r.
Keep not mercy at a distance
Now when trouble presses hard;
For I fail of all assistance,
If the Lord will not regard.
Youthful insolence confounds me,
Striplings of the hostile seed,
And maturer strength surrounds me,
Pride of Bashan's brawny breed.
Stalking to the gates of Zion
They my face with wrath behold,
Like the ramping roaring lion,
When he came upon my fold.
Loose, as to a fluid turning,
Are my bones, my joints relax,
And my heart, within me burning,
Is become like melting wax.
Like the fragments of a potter,
All my strength is dried and broke,
Parch'd my organs, and I totter,
As thou gave the final stroke.
For with mows of malediction
Crowds against my peace consent,
And with dark disguise and fiction
Artful traitors circumvent.
For my death their cross erecting,
Both my hands and feet they wound;
I can tell my bones projecting
To the staring crowd around.
As a spoil my garment's taken,
Into shares their band divide,
For my vest their lots are shaken,
Their contention to decide.
But, O Lord, by long secession,
Leave me not with woe to waste;
Thou my helper in oppression,
Quick to my deliv'rance haste.
From the weapons of the cruel,
Take my soul to life and light;
Mine inestimable jewel
From the carping pow'rs of spite.
From the tyrants that arraign me,
Speed me to thy righteous throne,
Thou that didst by grace sustain me
In the wilderness alone.
Jesus in my private station,
With my brethren will I praise;
And before the convocation,
Will his peerless marvels blaze.
Praise the Lord all ye that fear him,
And exalt him voice and mind;
You of Jacob's seed revere him,
And in Abr'ham all mankind.
For the friendless and unable
He disdains not to supply,
Nor rejects them from his table,
But attends whene'er they cry,
With communicants assembling
To thy church, my praise is thine;
And my vows with fear and trembling,
To their pray'rs I will subjoin.
God shall give the poor in spirit
Bread with everlasting peace;
Faith and praise shall realms inherit,
Where their pow'rs shall never cease.
Christ, by farthest earth asserted,
Shall remind them of their end;
All mankind shall be converted,
And the Christian Church attend.

20

For to Jesus is dominion,
Him all tongues and climes obey;
Wanton will and vague opinion
To the truth in Christ give way.
Such as in the world have flourish'd,
Whom true worth and fame reward,
Have been in the spirit nourish'd
By the nurture of the Lord.
Every saint that serves his Maker
Unto death, he shall restore
With his Son to be partaker
Of a life to die no more.
As for me and my descendants,
We will reverence his laws;
Reckon'd as the chief dependents
On his honour, house and cause.
My posterity shall glory,
As the heavens declare his reign,
Preaching his stupendous story
To the souls he shall regain.