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| XXXIX. | The .xxxix. Psalme. |
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| CL. |
 | The Psalter of David newely translated into English metre in such sort that it maye the more decently, and wyth more delyte of the mynde, be reade and songe of al men, wherunto is added a note of four partes, wyth other thynges, as shall appear in the Epistle to the Reader [by Robert Crowley] |  |
The .xxxix. Psalme.
Thus
sayde I wyth my selfe & thus I haue purposed longe:
I wyll obserue my wayes that I offende not wyth my tonge.
I wyll obserue my wayes that I offende not wyth my tonge.
And whylse the wycked is present, I wyll my mouth restrayne:
Euen as with a right stronge halter, or with a brydle rayne.
Euen as with a right stronge halter, or with a brydle rayne.
Through longe silence I was so dombe that I coulde speake nothynge:
Of good nor bad, yet in the meane tyme my sorowe dyd sprynge.
Of good nor bad, yet in the meane tyme my sorowe dyd sprynge.
Myne herte waxed hotte wythin me whylse I thus murmured:
A certen fyre burned outryght, and then my tonge lowsed.
Myne ende & measure of my dayes (Lord) shewe to me playnly:
That I maye knowe howe longe I, muste lyue in this miserie.
That I maye knowe howe longe I, muste lyue in this miserie.
Lo, thou haste appoynted my tyme much shorter for to be:
Then an hand breadth, yea it is nought, compared vnto the.
Then an hand breadth, yea it is nought, compared vnto the.
Certes the stouteste man of all, is of ryght small valure:
Though to mens syght he seme to stande neuer so firme and sure.
Though to mens syght he seme to stande neuer so firme and sure.
Man foloweth hys fantacie, and doeth folyshly rage:
He heapeth vp not knowynge who shal haue his heritage.
He heapeth vp not knowynge who shal haue his heritage.
And nowe (O Lord) what thinge is it, that I loke for to haue?
For truly myne hope lyeth on the, of the only I craue.
For truly myne hope lyeth on the, of the only I craue.
Deliuer me from al vices and all thynges vngodly:
And make me not a mockynge stocke to men full of follye.
And make me not a mockynge stocke to men full of follye.
I was made dombe and spake no worde, my mouth I opened not:
For thou thy selfe haste made me so (O my Lorde God) I wot.
For thou thy selfe haste made me so (O my Lorde God) I wot.
Take thou from me thy scorge therfore, plage thy seruant no more:
For at the styrynge of thyne hande, I am amased sore.
For at the styrynge of thyne hande, I am amased sore.
For when thou doest wyth chydynge wordes, chastise a man for synne
Forthwyth all hys goodly beawtie to cōsume doeth begynne.
Forthwyth all hys goodly beawtie to cōsume doeth begynne.
And as the moth wasteth the cloth, ryght so Lorde doest thou than:
Waste all that is comlye in hym, so vayne a thinge is man.
Waste all that is comlye in hym, so vayne a thinge is man.
O Lord hearken to my prayar, and geue eare to my crye:
Be not deafe when I wepe to the, heare me mercifully.
Be not deafe when I wepe to the, heare me mercifully.
For I am a strainger wyth the, my dwellynge is not here:
I am onlye a sogenar, as all oure fathers were.
I am onlye a sogenar, as all oure fathers were.
Turne a syde yet a whyle from me, that I maye recouer:
Before I do departe from hense, & be as one no where.
Before I do departe from hense, & be as one no where.
| The Psalter of David newely translated into English metre in such sort that it maye the more decently, and wyth more delyte of the mynde, be reade and songe of al men, wherunto is added a note of four partes, wyth other thynges, as shall appear in the Epistle to the Reader [by Robert Crowley] | |