University of Virginia Library

Sing praise to God both young and olde
That in this towne remaine,
With voice, and euerie Instrument,
Found out by mortall braine:
Sing praises to our mightie God,
Praise our deliuerars name,
Our louing Lord, who now in need,
Hath kythd to be the same.
The faithles snares did compasse vs,
Their netts were set about,
But yet our dearest Father in Heauen,
He hath redeemd vs out.
Not onlie that, but by his power,
Our enemies feet they slaid,
Whome he hath trapt, and made to fall
Into the pit they made:
Sing praises then both young and olde,
That in this towne remaine,
To him that hath releeued our necks,
From Turquish yoak prophaine.
Let vs wash off our sinnes impure,
Cast off our garments vile,
And hant his Temple euerie day,
To praise his name a while.
O praise him for the victorie,
That he hath made vs haue,
For he it was reuengd our cause,
And not our armie braue:
Praise him with Trumpet, Piphre, and drumme,
With Lutes, and Organes fine,
With Viols, Gitterns, Cistiers als,
And sweetest voices syne:
Sing praise, sing praise both young and olde,
Sing praises one and all,
To him who hath redeemd vs now,
From cruell Pagans thrall.

IN HEARING of this song mee thinks
My members waxes faint,
Nor yet from dulnes can I keepe,
My minde by no restraint.
But lo my Yrnie head doth nod,
Vpon my Adamant brest,
My eie-lidds will stand vp no more,
But falles to take them rest.
And through my weak and wearie hand,
Doth slide my pen of lead,
And sleep doth els possesse mee all,
The similitude of dead.
The God with golden wings through ports,
Of horne doth to me creepe,
Who changes ofter shapes transformd
Then PROTEVS in the deepe.
How soone he came, quite from my minde,
He worldlie cares remou'd,
And all my members in my bed,
Lay still in rest beloud.
And syne I heard a joifull song
Of all the fethered bands
Of holie Angels in the heauen,
Thus singing on all hands.