The whole Psalter translated into English Metre which contayneth an hundreth and fifty Psalmes |
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The whole Psalter translated into English Metre | ||
111
Psalme. XXXIX.
The Argument.
Whan Dauid sawe the world so bad: Gods men for truth to scorne,To God in hart complaynt he had: his tonge in silence borne.
1
I full decreed my wayes to wayte: least I in tong myght erre,To stop my mouth with mosell strayt: nye me while sinners were.
2
By silence long, euen dom I was: from truth I helde my peace:It fret me sore good thinges to passe: my griefes so dyd not cease.
3
My hart within was set on heate: thus musing fire it tooke:My tong brake out, some thyng to treate: then silence I forsooke.
4
Tell me myne ende O Lord I sayd: what number haue my dayes:That I may know how long dismayd: I here shall lyue in frayes.
5
My dayes lo thou at fyngers hast: a span in brede they bee,My life to thee as nought is cast: lyues man whole vanitie.
6
In shadow darke mans walke is set: in broyle he toyleth in vayne:He heapth and heapth and knowth not yet: who reape shall all hys payne
7
Now thē O Lord what loke I for? while men thus earth do wroteMy hope no dout thou art in store: thou art my health and bote.
8
To scape thy rod deliuer me: from myne offences quite:And make me not a scorne to be: to men of folishe spite.
9
Lord dom I layd in patience: not once my mouth to ope:For this thou dydst by prouidence: to proue my fayth and hope.
10
Remoue thy scourge from me to flye: by sinne I know deserued,Thy hand so smart hath spent me nye: be I yet (Lord) preserued.
11
For when for sinne thou scourgest man: by plages down sent fro theAs cloth by mothe, hys soule doth wan: all men then britle be.
12
Heare Lord my sute, and harke my cry: not deafely heare my tearesFor Pilgrim strange with thee I lye: as were my fathers yeares.
13
O spare me then, that I my strength: recouer may therfore:Before I go from hence at length: and after seene no more.
The whole Psalter translated into English Metre | ||