The Psalmes of David, from the New Translation of the Bible Turned into Meter ::

Lord! let me not in anger wast,
Nor Thy rebukes in fury tast.
Thy piercing arrowes deeply wound;
Thy pressing hand doth me confound.
My sickly body finds no ease,
Because my sinne doth Thee displease.
Nor will that guilt Thou dost detest
Afford my troubled conscience rest.

My sins, like to a torrent grow'n,
My sinking head have overflow'n.
They burthen me with care, and feare;
And are become too great to beare.
My sores, and wounds corrupted smell,
My foule offence, and folly tell:
Bow'd downe with trouble, and forlorne,
By night I wake, by day I mourne.

My loynes diseas'd, my flesh unsound;
And all my body seems one wound.
I feeble am, with anguish broake,
And roare beneath Thy heavy stroak.
O Lord, Thou know'st my whole desire;
My hidden groanes to Thee aspire.
My heart doth pant, my vigour dies;
Of light deprived are mine eyes.

My friends, who late professed love,
Far from my sore themselves remove.
My kindred my converses shun;
Nor come to comfort, but look on.
They, who my life seek to ensnare,
Intent upon my mischiefes are.
With foule reproaches, and false lies,
My ruin daily they devise.

But I, as those nor heare, nor speake,
Did never into passion breake:
No angry murmur from me fell,
Which might my griefes impatience tell
For I in Thee my trust repose,
To heare my moane, and quell my foes.
Who, when my foot amisse did goe,
Triumphed at my overthrow.

With woes opprest I daily fall,
My sorrowes are continuall:

And whilst my faults are in my view,
They do as oft my paine renew.
I therefore will those sins confesse,
And with contrition beg redresse.
I will the guilt of my offence
Wash off with teares of penitence.

O Lord! mine enemies are strong,
And live to do me further wrong.
Each day their number doth encrease,
Who are the haters of my peace.
They also have against me stood,
Who make returnes of ill for good:
Yet know no cause for their despight,
But that I follow what is right.

Therefore my sad request I make,
That Thou wilt never me forsake.
My God! O never far depart,
Who my releife, and comfort art.
My sighs, and sorrowes look upon,
Thou God of my salvation:
Afford thy help in time of need,
And to my reskue come with speed.

University of Virginia Library

Psal. XXXVIII.