The whole Psalter translated into English Metre :: :: University of Virginia Library

Poore Dauid prest by tyranny,
Of wilfull Saule: who could not blin,
For his blacke garde: to search hym nye,
Prayth thus to God his helpe to winne,
And wysheth that he his cause would try.
He thus beginneth.

Iudica me Deus.

1

Ah iudge me God: O iudge most true,
Discern my cause: by power opprest
Unfaintly men: do me pursue
By lawes vniust: my right deprest,
Which yet thy word: allowth full due,
O geue me rest.

Rule me to scape: that wycked man,

1. Reg. 24.

That sinfull Saule: of shameles face,
Who boasteth himselfe: all that he can,

2. Thes. 2.

And doth vsurpe: thy godly place,
Whose power by sleite: and sinne began.
O iudge my case.

2

Know this I do: my God thou art
To thee my strength: I whole appeale,
Why putst me backe: why standst apart?
My state to thee: I iust reueale,
Why turnst from mee: thy louyng hart?
O mercy deale.

Eternall God: why go I thus,
Ashamd in face: and vily checkt:
My cause but made: opprobrious,
Why doth my fo: thus me reiect?
To beare me downe: so rigorous?
O me respect.

126

3

Returne thy light: my hart to cheare,
Perfourme thy fayth: that thou hast hight:
Thy lyght and truth: let it appeare,
To teache the blynde: thy worde so bryght,
That it may rule: as law most deare,
O kepe thy ryght.

Make hast O Lord: and bring me nye,
Thy holy hill: to sing thy prayse:
Thy truth and lyght: of sanctuarie,
Will be my guide: in all these frayes,
Expell thys crosse, thys misery.
O cheare my dayes.

4

That I may go: gods aulters to
To offer thankes: in sacrifice:
In hart deuout: as due is so,
Yea nye in sight: to God to rise
My God of ioy: ease thou my wo,
O glad myne eyes.

That thou alone: half geuen reliefe,
I thee wyll laude: wyth harpe and lute:
My God intiere: my helpe in chiefe,
Thou shalt my foes: for me confute,
So me to ayde: to ease my griefe,
O heare my sute.

5

Why then my soule: art thou so sad?
Why fretst within: why troublest me?
So foule dismayd: in thoughts bestad,
Knowst not that God: thy God is he?
Call thys to mynde: to make thee glad,
O make me free.

127

Euen trust to God: in stablenes,
No more but trust: for sure he is,
I will hym yet: wyth laudes confesse,
For he wyll cheare: my face iwis,
My God my helth: he is no lesse.
O graunt all this.