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The whole Psalter translated into English Metre

which contayneth an hundreth and fifty Psalmes
4 occurrences of psalter
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Psalme. LVI.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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4 occurrences of psalter
[Clear Hits]

Psalme. LVI.

The Argument.

This prayth to God as innocent,
Agaynst his foes so mad:
As Christ though pure: the Iewes dyd shent,
Yet he reioyceth full glad.

Miserere mei deus


1

Haue mercy God: on me I pray,
for man will treade me downe:
His fierce assaut: from day to day,
would make my hart to sowne.

160

2

To swalowe me: my foes entend,
as daily bent they lygh:
Full many one: do war extend,
on me, O thou most high.

3

But euer when: such feares inuade,
my hart, to make me flee:
I trust yet well, therout to wade,
my fayth so cleauth to thee.

4

Prayse God I wyll: and trust hys worde,
what hys good hand doth send:
I feare not fleshe: hys spyte and sworde,
to God my trust shall bend.

5

For daily me: they do depraue,
both what I do and say:
In hart and tonge: at me they raue,
and me to harme they lay.

6

They flocke on me: and priuely,
conspyrde they haue in stealth:
They wayte my wayes: my steps to stye,
to stroy my soule and wealth.

7

They put theyr hope: by guilefulnes,
and craft, to scape away:
Yet once O God: thou wylt them stres,
in ire, for all theyr stray.

8

Thou seest my flightes: and often feares,
thou markst them all full out:
Wythin thy bottell put my teares,
the booke them noteth no dout?

161

9

As oft as I: do call on thee,
my foes then take theyr slight:
Therby my hart: doth full agree,
that God for me doth fight.

10

Of thys my God: for promyse iust,
I wyll hym laude and prayse:
God wyll I prayse: and all my trust,
in hym I set alwayes.

11

On God I haue: me whole bestowde,
a tyme though I be thrall:
What flesh can do: though all beshrowd,
I feare no whit at all.

12

Now fit for me: my vowes to pay,
to God they be so hyght:
And hym due laudes: to sing by day,
and thankes in open sight.

13

For thou my soule: hast ryd from death,
from fall thou keepst my feete:
To walke in lyght: whyle lyfe hath breath,
before my God so sweete.