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Quemadmodum desiderat.
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XLV. |
XLVI. |
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XLIX. |
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LXXX. |
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LXXXX. |
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CXLIX. |
CL. |
The Whole Booke of Psalmes, collected into Englysh metre by T. Starnhold I. Hopkins & others: conferred with the Ebrue, with apt Notes to synge the[m] withal | ||
Quemadmodum desiderat.
Psal. xlii.
I.H.
The Prophet greuously complayneth that being letted by his persecutours he could not be present in the congregation of Gods people, protesting, that although he was seperate in body from them: yet his harte was thither affectioned. And last of all he sheweth that he was not so far ouercomen with these sorowes and thoughtes, but that he continually put his confidence in the Lord.
Like as the hart doth breath and bray,
the well springs to obteyne:
So doth my soule desire alway,
with thee Lorde to remayne.
My soule doth thirst & would draw nere
the liuing God of might:
O when shall I come and appeare,
in presence of his sight?
the well springs to obteyne:
So doth my soule desire alway,
with thee Lorde to remayne.
My soule doth thirst & would draw nere
the liuing God of might:
O when shall I come and appeare,
in presence of his sight?
The teares all times are my repast,
which from mine eyes do slide:
When wicked men cry out so fast,
where nowe is God thy guide,
Alas what grief is it to thinke,
what fredome once I had?
Therfore my soule as at pits brinke,
is moste heauy and sad.
which from mine eyes do slide:
When wicked men cry out so fast,
where nowe is God thy guide,
Alas what grief is it to thinke,
what fredome once I had?
97
is moste heauy and sad.
When I did marche in good aray,
furnished with my trayne:
Unto the temple was our way,
with songes and harts most fayne.
My soule why art thou sad alwayes,
and freatst thus in my brest?
Trust still in God, for him to prayse,
I holde it euer best.
furnished with my trayne:
Unto the temple was our way,
with songes and harts most fayne.
My soule why art thou sad alwayes,
and freatst thus in my brest?
Trust still in God, for him to prayse,
I holde it euer best.
By him haue I succour at nede,
against all payne and grief:
He is my God which with all spede,
will hast to sende relyef.
And this my soule within me (Lorde)
doth faint to thinke vpon:
The lande of Iordan, and record,
the little hill Hermon.
against all payne and grief:
He is my God which with all spede,
will hast to sende relyef.
And this my soule within me (Lorde)
doth faint to thinke vpon:
The lande of Iordan, and record,
the little hill Hermon.
One grief an other in doth call,
as cloudes burst out theyr voyce.
The floudes of euill that doo fall,
runne ouer me with noyce.
Yet I by day felt his goodnes,
and helpe at all assayes:
Lykewise by night I did not cease,
the liuyng God to prayse.
as cloudes burst out theyr voyce.
The floudes of euill that doo fall,
runne ouer me with noyce.
Yet I by day felt his goodnes,
and helpe at all assayes:
Lykewise by night I did not cease,
the liuyng God to prayse.
I am perswaded thus to say,
to him with pure pretence:
O Lorde thou art my guide and stay,
my rocke and my defence.
Why doo I then in pensiuenes,
hanging the head thus walke:
While that mine enemies me oppres,
and vexe me with their talke.
to him with pure pretence:
O Lorde thou art my guide and stay,
my rocke and my defence.
68
hanging the head thus walke:
While that mine enemies me oppres,
and vexe me with their talke.
For why? they pearse myne inward parts
with panges to be abhord:
When they cry out with stubburne harts,
where is thy God, thy Lorde?
So sone why doest thou faint and quayle
my soule with paines opprest?
with thoughts why dost thy self assayle,
so sore within my brest?
with panges to be abhord:
When they cry out with stubburne harts,
where is thy God, thy Lorde?
So sone why doest thou faint and quayle
my soule with paines opprest?
with thoughts why dost thy self assayle,
so sore within my brest?
The Whole Booke of Psalmes, collected into Englysh metre by T. Starnhold I. Hopkins & others: conferred with the Ebrue, with apt Notes to synge the[m] withal | ||