The Psalmes of David, from the New Translation of the Bible Turned into Meter To be Sung after the Old Tunes used in the Churches [by Henry King] |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
XXIV. |
XXV. |
XXVI. |
XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
XXXII. |
XXXIII. |
XXXIV. |
XXXV. |
XXXVI. |
XXXVII. |
XXXVIII. |
XXXIX. |
XL. |
XLI. |
XLII. |
XLIII. |
XLIV. |
Psal. XLIV.
|
XLV. |
XLVI. |
XLVII. |
XLVIII. |
XLIX. |
L. |
LI. |
LII. |
LIII. |
LIV. |
LV. |
LVI. |
LVII. |
LVIII. |
LIX. |
LX. |
LXI. |
LXII. |
LXIII. |
LXIV. |
LXV. |
LXVI. |
LXVII. |
LXVIII. |
LXIX. |
LXX. |
LXXI. |
LXXII. |
LXXIII. |
LXXIV. |
LXXV. |
LXXVI. |
LXXVII. |
LXXVIII. |
LXXIX. |
LXXX. |
LXXXI. |
LXXXII. |
LXXXIII. |
LXXXIV. |
LXXXV. |
LXXXVI. |
LXXXVII. |
LXXXVIII. |
LXXXIX. |
XC. |
XCI. |
XCII. |
XCIII. |
XCIV. |
XCV. |
XCVI. |
XCVII. |
XCVIII. |
XCIX. |
C. |
CI. |
CII. |
CIII. |
CIV. |
CV. |
CVI. |
CVII. |
CVIII. |
CIX. |
CX. |
CXI. |
CXII. |
CXIII. |
CXIV. |
CXV. |
CXVI. |
CXVII. |
CXVIII. |
CXIX. |
CXX. |
CXXI. |
CXXII. |
CXXIII. |
CXXIV. |
CXXV. |
CXXVI. |
CXXVII. |
CXXVIII. |
CXXIX. |
CXXX. |
CXXXI. |
CXXXII. |
CXXXIII. |
CXXXIV. |
CXXXV. |
CXXXVI. |
CXXXVII. |
CXXXVIII. |
CXXXIX. |
CXL. |
CXLI. |
CXLII. |
CXLIII. |
CXLIV. |
CXLV. |
CXLVI. |
CXLVII. |
CXLVIII. |
CXLIX. |
CL. |
The Psalmes of David, from the New Translation of the Bible Turned into Meter | ||
Psal. XLIV.
O God! our fathers have us told,
What Thou hast done in times of old.
Thou drav'st out Nations by Thine hand,
To plant Thy people in their land.
'Twas not their arme, or sword, which got
Those faire possessions for their lot:
But thy right hand, thine arme of might,
Because in them Thou took'st delight.
What Thou hast done in times of old.
Thou drav'st out Nations by Thine hand,
To plant Thy people in their land.
'Twas not their arme, or sword, which got
Those faire possessions for their lot:
But thy right hand, thine arme of might,
Because in them Thou took'st delight.
O glorious God! Thou art my King:
Deliverance to Iacob bring.
Through Thee we will our enemies,
And those tread downe, who 'gainst us rise.
For in my bow I will not trust;
'Tis not my sword deliver must:
But Thou hast sav'd us by Thy Name,
And all that hate us put to shame.
Deliverance to Iacob bring.
Through Thee we will our enemies,
And those tread downe, who 'gainst us rise.
For in my bow I will not trust;
'Tis not my sword deliver must:
But Thou hast sav'd us by Thy Name,
And all that hate us put to shame.
78
In God all day we make our boasts,
And praise Thy Name, great Lord of hoasts
But Thou hast left and cast us low,
Nor with our Armies forth dost goe.
Thou makest us our backs to turne;
Whilst they, which hate us, spoile & burne
Thou gav'st us to the Heathens pow'r
Like sheep, to scatter and devoure.
And praise Thy Name, great Lord of hoasts
But Thou hast left and cast us low,
Nor with our Armies forth dost goe.
Thou makest us our backs to turne;
Whilst they, which hate us, spoile & burne
Thou gav'st us to the Heathens pow'r
Like sheep, to scatter and devoure.
Thou do'st Thy People sell for nought,
Not richer, when the price is brought:
Thou makest us our neighbours scorne,
Laugh'd at, and with reproaches torne:
We are a by-word all about;
The Heathen shake their head, & flout,
I ly confounded with disgrace,
And shame hath covered my face.
Not richer, when the price is brought:
Thou makest us our neighbours scorne,
Laugh'd at, and with reproaches torne:
We are a by-word all about;
The Heathen shake their head, & flout,
I ly confounded with disgrace,
And shame hath covered my face.
By reason of their vengfull pride,
Who Thee blaspheme, and me deride;
All this we beare: yet have we not
Thy selfe, or Covenant forgot.
Our heart revolting turnes not back
Nor do our feet Thy waies forsake
Though 'mongst the dragons broken sore
And with death's shadow cover'd o'er.
Who Thee blaspheme, and me deride;
All this we beare: yet have we not
Thy selfe, or Covenant forgot.
Our heart revolting turnes not back
Nor do our feet Thy waies forsake
Though 'mongst the dragons broken sore
And with death's shadow cover'd o'er.
If we our God forgotten have;
Or unto Idols worship gave:
Shall not his search the sin impart,
Who knowes the secrets of each heart?
Yea for Thy sake so ill we fare,
We all the day-long killed are:
Counted as sheep for shambles bred,
Fit only to be slaughtered.
Or unto Idols worship gave:
79
Who knowes the secrets of each heart?
Yea for Thy sake so ill we fare,
We all the day-long killed are:
Counted as sheep for shambles bred,
Fit only to be slaughtered.
Awake (O Lord!) why do'st Thou sleep?
Still wilt Thou us at distance keep?
Why hidest Thou Thy face from those,
Wholy opprest, and griev'd by foes?
Our soule unto the dust is throw'n,
To earth our belly cleaveth downe.
Arise, our life from ruin take;
And save us for Thy mercies sake.
Still wilt Thou us at distance keep?
Why hidest Thou Thy face from those,
Wholy opprest, and griev'd by foes?
Our soule unto the dust is throw'n,
To earth our belly cleaveth downe.
Arise, our life from ruin take;
And save us for Thy mercies sake.
The Psalmes of David, from the New Translation of the Bible Turned into Meter | ||