The whole Psalter translated into English Metre | ||
156
Psalme. LV.
The Argument.
As Dauid mournd to shame reiect,by them who semed his frendes:
The same did Christ, as his elect,
in lyke may haue lyke myndes.
1
Geue eare O God: to my request,in anguishe all be set:
Hyde not thy selfe: to myne vnrest,
from me thyne eares to shet.
2
Geue hede to me: thy grace impart,to my depe cry and call:
I mourne therin: and grone in hart,
now here, now there I fall.
3
For that my foes: so cry and rore,and me wyth spyte approche:
They mischiefe meane: and euermore,
in wroth they me reproche.
4
My hart doth faynt: sore vext it is,in great disquietnes:
Yea feares of death: be not remisse,
to do my hart distres.
5
Both feare and dread: thus tossing me,my tremblyng neuer blin:
Darke horrors depe: full prest they be,
all whole to wrap me in.
6
Wherfore I sayd: O that I had,to flye winges lyke a doue:
Then would I flye: to rest full glad,
and me from hence remoue.
157
7
No dout far of: I would me flitche,From hence to wildernes:
More there to dwell: than here wyth such,
in such vnrestfulnes.
8
I would make hast: to scape away,as fast as wynde could blow:
To flee thys storme: and tempest aye,
I would me safe bestow.
9
Destroy them Lord: theyr tonges deuyde,theyr counsayles scatter wyde:
Theyr citie wryth: to wrong a syde,
to stryfe and churlishe pryde.
10
Both day and nyght: theyr citie walles,are thus enuyroned:
In mids therof: all mischiefe falles,
and sorrow there exceedth.
11
All noughtines: and vyce doth raygne,in Ceyla citie so:
Deceyt and guile: wyth all that trayne,
theyr streetes full thorough go.
12
No open foe: workth me thys spyte,for hym then would I beare:
No enmy known: thus raysth hys myght,
whom I myght flee and feare.
13
But thou my mate: most deare to hart,as was my lyfe in state:
Whom I esteemd as guide in part,
as homely fellow grate.
158
14
Wyth whom so knit: we often tooke,both meate and counsayle sweete:
We neyther others once forsooke,
in Gods house aye to meete.
15
Let death them trap: full sodenly,euen quicke to fall to hell:
For vice wyth them: doth lodge and ligh,
theyr hartes wyth falshode mell.
16
But as for me: to God I cryed,and hence hym pray I wyll:
The Lord saued me: full oft I tryed,
I trust he shall do still.
17
At euen and morne I made my sute,at noone day instantly:
No tyme my cry: dyd he refute,
thus made importunely.
18
For he redeemd: my soule to peace,from war agaynst me set:
For many were wyth me to ease,
though they in numbers met.
19
Yea God himselfe: whych aye hath bene,shall heare me them to scourge:
No tyme to change: they wyll be sene,
wyth feare to God assurge.
20
He rearde hys handes: agaynst hys frendes,which ment hym peace and rest:
He brake hys league: that men so byndes,
together fast in brest.
159
21
Hys mouth more soft: then butter melt,though warre was stiffe in hart:
More smooth then oyle: hys wordes were felt,
yet were sharpe dartes and smart.
22
O cast thy care: on God so deare,what burthen thee oppresse:
He will thee feede: he cannot beare,
the iust to fall in stresse.
23
And thou O God: shalt stroy the fetche,of crafty bloudy men:
Theyr dayes to halfe: shall neuer retche,
to thee I yeld me then.
The whole Psalter translated into English Metre | ||