PSALMOSTHEIOS[Greek], Or a Divine psalme or, Song, Wherein Predestination is maintained, yet the honour of Jehovah preserved and vindicated: And to that eternall song the holy Scripture dedicated. By John Davis [i.e. Davies]. Whereunto is annexed an Elogie upon the Patron, With certaine Divine Epigrams to whom the Author presented some of his Books

Davies, John (1565?-1618)

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Upon the title of this little Book, namely, a Psalme.

To his Meditation.

Ψαλμος θειος, Or a Divine Psalme, or Song:

An Elogie upon the incomparable Divine Patron of this little Book, the Sacred Scriptures of the Old and New Testament.

CERTAIN DIVINE EPIGRAMS

To his most honoured father Master DAVIS Minister of the Gospel in Hereford-Shire.

To his dear Mother Mistris DAVIS.

To my Father in Law Thomas Rider Gentleman, and his loving Consort my Mother in Law.

To his dear Wife Abigail Davis.

To the reverend, faithfull and profitable Minister of the Gospell: Mr. Rawlinson, of the Parish of Lambeth Pastor.

To his approved good friend the learned and experienced, Master John Hinton, Physician.

To his Countrey the fruitfull County of Hereford in Wales.

To his respected Uncle John Davis of The Greenway in Hereford-Shire.

To his respected Friend Master John Wood.

To his Honoured Friend, Mr. Abraham Taylor, Merchant of the City of LONDON.

To his respected Friend, Master Thomas Churchman, of London Citizen.

To his much esteemed Friend and Cousin-german, John Davis of The Greenway in Hereford-Shire.

To his Brother in Law, William Gardiner of Whitchurch in Hereford-Shire.

To his Brother in Law Thomas Roberts at the Were-end in Hereford-Shire.

To his Brother Robert Davis, Barber-Chirurgeon of the City of London.

To his Brother Samuel Davis, Cordwainer in the Town of Monmouth in Wales.

To the Captious READER.

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To his Brother Robert Davis, Barber-Chirurgeon of the City of London.

If thou canst set a Song to Instrument,
Take pains with this, it wil be time wel spent.
And though it may not disagree, but suite
With either Violl, Harpsecall or Lute;
Yet let it not be only set to such,
But tune thy heart hereto, and it will much
Delight thy sp'rits: what? though it doth not like
The eares of carnall men, who only strike,
And harp upon that Instrument call'd Base.
O! sing (with heart) Gods praises in thy place.
Bad matter ne're so truly plaid, is wrong,
Whatever others croke, sing thou this Song.

Written by your Brother, John Davis.

University of Virginia Library

To his Brother Robert Davis, Barber-Chirurgeon of the City of London.