The .xxxv. Psalme.
Take
thou my stryfe in hande (O Lorde) assaute them that saute me:
Take the to shylde and speare and ryse myne helper for to be.
Pull out thy speare, come out to mete my persecutours fel;
Saye to my soule, I am thyne health, thy matters shall go well:
Let thē that seke my lyfe, take shame, and eke ignominie:
Let them be dryuen backe wyth shame, that thyncke euyll vnto me.
Let them be made lyke to the dust, that with the winde doeth flye:
And let the aungell of the Lorde dryue them vyolently.
Let their waye be darcke and slyprye, that they may slyde and fall:
And let the aungell of the Lorde persequute them wyth all.
For wythoute cause the pytte of their net haue they for me hyd:
Ryght so a great trenghe for my soule, causeles they haue digged.
Let the mysery that they did not fore se on them fall:
And let the net, they hyd, take them, and let them be made thraule.
But my soule shall greatly reioyce in the Lorde God for aye:
She shall reioyce in hys salfe garde, and all my bones shall saye:
O Lorde who is lyke the? that doest rescue the conquyred:
And take the poore and nedye from him that hath hym forced?
There dyd aryse fierse wytnesses, men violent in dede:
And asked me of thynges, that I neuer Imagyned.
They requited me euel for good, such was theyr cruell wyll:
And for ye helpe they had of me, they sought me for to kyll.
But when I hearde that they were sycke, and wyth disease greued:
I ware sacke cloth, and wyth fastynge my soule I afflicted.
The prayer that I made for them when they were in distresse:
I woulde should lyght vpon myselfe in tyme of heauines.
I went as though my faythfull frende or brother had dyed:
As one that mourneth hys mother in blacke I was clothed.
But in the tyme of myne haltynge when I was weakened:
They dyd reioyce excedyngly and were congregated.
The lame flocked agaynste me when I dyd thyncke nothynge lesse:
And frō theyr bytter raylynge wordes, they dyd then neuer cease.
And the dissemblynge hypocrites, that do serue theyr bealy:
Dyd grenne and gnashe theyr teeth at me, as men full of enuie.
O Lorde howe longe wylt thou beholde, thys and suffer them styll?
Rydde me from theyr oppression, and from theyr cruell wyll.
Then wyl I celebrate thy name, in a grat companie:
And will prayse the in a people that is strong and myghtie.
Let them not reioyce ouer me, that causelesse my foes be:
Neyther let them wyncke wyles wyth me, that wythout cause hate me.
They speake no worde that shoulde brede peace, peace is not theyr intent:
But agaynste the quiete they do disceytefull wordes inuent.
They thruste out the mouth agaynste me, and storne fully they saye:
Haha haha, our eie hath sene, this mans vtter decaye.
And thou (O Lorde) haste sene this thyng do thou not dissemble:
Neyther be thou far of from me, when they do assemble.
Aryse, awake, that thou mayste iudge my cause as ryght doeth stande:
My God & Lorde, arise that thou maiste take my cause in hande.
O Lorde my God, for thy iustice do thou geue me my right:
And suffer them not to reioyce, ouer me in thy syght.
Let them not saye thus in their hert, haha we haue our mynde:
Let them not saye, we haue eate hym, let thē no suche cause fynde.
Let them all take shame and rebuke, that of myne ylle reioyce:
Cloth them wyth shame that speake againste me with a braggynge voyce.
Let suche as woulde I had my ryght, reioyce greatly, and saye
The Lorde that woulde hys seruaūtes peace be magnifyed alwaye.
And on my tong (Lord) thy iustyce shal sowne dylygently:
And vpon thy most worthy prayse my tonge shal runne dayly.
