The Psalmes of David, from the New Translation of the Bible Turned into Meter ::

All people of the world give eare;
Low, high, rich, poore, togither heare!
My mouth of wisedome shall dilate;
My heart deep knowledge meditate.
To Parables I will encline,
Darke sayings on the harp divine.
Why should my end affrightment feel,
When sin, or death assault my heel?

Who trust in wealth, and riches boast,
Cannot redeeme a brother lost;
Or bring back life, when fled away;
Or unto God his ransome pay;
(The soule so pretious is, no rate
Can it recall, or expiate:)
That so he might for ever last,
And not of earth's corruption tast.

For he perceiveth that the wise,
Like to the foole, and brutish dies:
And all the wealth, which they have got
Must then become anothers lot.

Yet they suppose their dwelling place
Shall last through each succeeding race;
And to their lands their names bequeath,
To keep them living after death.

Man nerethelesse to honour brought,
Like beasts that perish, comes to nought.
Thus their vaine folly ends; yet they,
Who them survive, praise all they say.
Like sheep, they in the grave are layd,
For death to feed on, dishes made.
The just in light eternall reignes,
Whilst others pomp in dust remaines.

But God my soule shall take, and save
From power of the wide-mouth'd grave.
Be not thou troubled, or afraid,
When one of these is wealthy made:
Or when with plenty fill'd, and ease,
His houses glory doth encrease.
He carries nothing when he dies,
But stript of all his honour lies.

Though living, he his soule did blesse;
Applauding his false happinesse:
And men that course in worldings praise,
Which most the appetite obaies.
He with his fathers ends in night,
And never more shall see the light.

Man, who in honour nothing knowes,
From hence, like beasts that perish, goes.

University of Virginia Library

Psal. XLIX.