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

I said my wayes I will intend,
And least my tongue offend,
My mouth shall bownd and bridled bee,
Whilst I the wicked see.
I dumb awhile and silent stood,
Ev'n ceasing to speak good;
Untill at last my grieved heart
Was urg'd with sorrowes smart:

So that my heated breast became
For lack of vent a flame;
And then my tongue these words exprest,
Breath'd forth from my disrest.
Lord! Let me understand my end,
How farr my dayes extend;
That I may know how I am fraile,
Each moment apt to faile.

Behold Thou mad'st the dayes of man
No longer then a span:
His age as nothing is, and he
At best but vanitie:

Man like a shadow walkes in vaine,
Wasting his time with paine;
He heapes up riches, yet not knowes
What heire shall them dispose.

And now O Lord! on whom shall I
Whilst I stay here rely?
Truly my hope shall wait on Thee,
My joyes there treasur'd be.
Deliver me when I transgresse,
And help me in distresse;
Let not the foolish me deride,
Or scorne me in their pride.

Under Thy scourge I silent lay
Prepared to obay:
I did not murmur at my paine,
Or of Thy hand complaine.
Yet now Thy mercies I invoke,
To take away Thy stroke;
For I consume, and my faint breath
Is yeelding up to death.

When Thou for sin dost man correct,
Rebuking his neglect,
Thou mak'st his beauty soone consume
Like to the wandring fume.
Sicknese destroyes him, as a moath
Corrodes and frets the cloath.

So vaine is man, and quickly gone
Into corruption.

Lord heare my cry! let not thine eares
Be deaf unto my teares:
For I with Thee a stranger am,
And but to sojourne came.
O spare my time a little length,
Till I recover strength,
Before I goe from this worlds shore,
And shall be seene no more.

University of Virginia Library

Psal. XXXIX.