The Psalmes of David, from the New Translation of the Bible Turned into Meter To be Sung after the Old Tunes used in the Churches [by Henry King] |
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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. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
Psal. XXXVI.
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| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
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| 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. |
 | The Psalmes of David, from the New Translation of the Bible Turned into Meter |  |
Psal. XXXVI.
My heart of the transgressor saith,
No fear of God he hath.
Himselfe he flatters in conceit,
Becomming all mens hate.
His mouth doth fraud, and sin devise;
He is nor good, nor wise.
He mischeife on his bed contrives,
By wayes abhorred thrives.
No fear of God he hath.
Himselfe he flatters in conceit,
Becomming all mens hate.
His mouth doth fraud, and sin devise;
He is nor good, nor wise.
He mischeife on his bed contrives,
By wayes abhorred thrives.
61
Up to the clouds Thy mercies reach;
The hills Thy justice teach.
Thy judgments (Lord,) who all dost keep,
Are like th' un-fathom'd deep.
How doth Thy love excell! Thy wing
Man-kind ore-shadowing.
Thy house to them full plenty brings,
Who drinke of Thy pure springs.
The hills Thy justice teach.
Thy judgments (Lord,) who all dost keep,
Are like th' un-fathom'd deep.
How doth Thy love excell! Thy wing
Man-kind ore-shadowing.
Thy house to them full plenty brings,
Who drinke of Thy pure springs.
Thou hast lifes springs, and in Thy sight
We shall behold the light.
Thy kindnesse, (Lord) and grace impart
To the upright in heart.
Let not the foot of pride prevaile,
Nor wicked hands assaile.
Downe are they fall'n who ills devise;
And never shall arise.
We shall behold the light.
Thy kindnesse, (Lord) and grace impart
To the upright in heart.
Let not the foot of pride prevaile,
Nor wicked hands assaile.
Downe are they fall'n who ills devise;
And never shall arise.
| The Psalmes of David, from the New Translation of the Bible Turned into Meter | |