Certayne Psalmes select out of the Psalter of Dauid and drawen into Englyshe Metre, wyth Notes to euery Psalme in iiij. parts to Synge, by F. S. [i.e. Francis Seager] |
 |
Psalme lxxxviii. Domine deus salutis mee.
|
 | Certayne Psalmes select out of the Psalter of Dauid |  |
Psalme lxxxviii. Domine deus salutis mee.
O Lorde vpon, whose holy wyll
Dependeth my welfare:
To call vpon, thy blessed name
Sence daye nor nyght I spare.
Dependeth my welfare:
To call vpon, thy blessed name
Sence daye nor nyght I spare.
Graunte that ye iuste, & ryght request
Of my repentaunt mynde:
So perce thyne eares, that in thy syght
Some fauoure it maye fynde.
Of my repentaunt mynde:
So perce thyne eares, that in thy syght
Some fauoure it maye fynde.
My soule (o Lorde, is fraughted full
Wyth grefe of folyes past:
My restles body, doth consume
And death approcheth fast.
Wyth grefe of folyes past:
My restles body, doth consume
And death approcheth fast.
Lyke vnto those, whose fatall thred
Thyne hand hath cut in twayne:
Of whom there is no farther bruyte
But in theyr graues remayne.
Thyne hand hath cut in twayne:
Of whom there is no farther bruyte
But in theyr graues remayne.
Lorde in thy wrath, thou hast me cast
Into the pyt of payne:
Wherin I mourne, and playne my wo
That I byde and sustayne.
Into the pyt of payne:
Wherin I mourne, and playne my wo
That I byde and sustayne.
The burden of, thy wrath and yre
Doth me so sore oppresse:
And sondry stormes, thou hast me sent
Of terroure and dystresse.
Doth me so sore oppresse:
And sondry stormes, thou hast me sent
Of terroure and dystresse.
The faythfull frendes, are from me {fl}ed
And banysht from my syght:
And such as I, haue held full deare
Hath set my frendeshyp lyght.
And banysht from my syght:
And such as I, haue held full deare
Hath set my frendeshyp lyght.
My durance doth, now styll perswade
Of fredom such dyspayre:
That by the teares, that payne my harte
Myne eye syght doth appayre.
Of fredom such dyspayre:
That by the teares, that payne my harte
Myne eye syght doth appayre.
Yet dyd I neuer, cease nor slake
Thyne ayde for to desyre:
Wyth humble harte, and stretched hands
For to appease thyne yre.
Thyne ayde for to desyre:
Wyth humble harte, and stretched hands
For to appease thyne yre.
Wherfore dost thou, o Lorde forbeare
In the defence of thyne:
To shew such tokens, of thy powre
In syght of Adams lyne.
In the defence of thyne:
To shew such tokens, of thy powre
In syght of Adams lyne.
Wherby eche faynte, and feble harte
Wyth faythe maye be so fed:
That in the mouth, of thyne elect
Thy mercyes myght be spred.
Wyth faythe maye be so fed:
That in the mouth, of thyne elect
Thy mercyes myght be spred.
The fleshe in earth, that feadeth worms
Can not thy loue declare:
Nor such set forth, thy fayth as dwell
In the lande of dispaire.
Can not thy loue declare:
Nor such set forth, thy fayth as dwell
In the lande of dispaire.
Thy name no prayse, can haue at all
Euen by the mouthe of those:
Whom death hath shut, in sylence so
As they maye not dysclose.
Euen by the mouthe of those:
Whom death hath shut, in sylence so
As they maye not dysclose.
The lyuely voyce, euen of them all
That in thys worlde delyght:
Nor by the trumpe, that must resound
The glory of thy myght.
That in thys worlde delyght:
Nor by the trumpe, that must resound
The glory of thy myght.
Wherfore I wyll, not cease at all
In chefe of my dystresse:
To call on thee, tyll that the slepe
My wery bones oppresse.
In chefe of my dystresse:
To call on thee, tyll that the slepe
My wery bones oppresse.
And in the morne, early betyme
When that the slepe is fledde:
Wyth floudds of salte, repentant teares
To washe my restles bedde.
When that the slepe is fledde:
Wyth floudds of salte, repentant teares
To washe my restles bedde.
Wyth in thys mynde, so full of care
Burdned wyth payne and grefe:
Why dost thou Lorde, appease the thing
That should be my relefe.
Burdned wyth payne and grefe:
Why dost thou Lorde, appease the thing
That should be my relefe.
My wretched state, beholde and se
Whom death shall strayght assayle:
Cast not from thee, thaflycted styll
That naught els doth but wayle.
Whom death shall strayght assayle:
Cast not from thee, thaflycted styll
That naught els doth but wayle.
The feare so greate, lo of thyne yre
Hath trode me vnder fete:
The scourges of, thyne angrye hand
Hath made death seme full swete.
Hath trode me vnder fete:
The scourges of, thyne angrye hand
Hath made death seme full swete.
Lyke as the roringe, waues of seas
The sonken shyppe surrounde:
Great heapes of care, dyd follow me
And I no succoure founde.
The sonken shyppe surrounde:
Great heapes of care, dyd follow me
And I no succoure founde.
For they whome no, kynde of myschaunce
Could from my loue deuyde:
Are forced to, my greater grefe
From me theyr face to hyde.
Could from my loue deuyde:
Are forced to, my greater grefe
From me theyr face to hyde.
Beholde and see, the greate goodnes
Of god vvho doth sustayne:
The myserye, euen of all suche
As be in griefe and payne.
Of god vvho doth sustayne:
The myserye, euen of all suche
| Certayne Psalmes select out of the Psalter of Dauid | |