Psa. 109.
[_]
To the cheef Musition a Psalme of David. It is
applied vnto Iudas Acts 1. 20. and is it vsefull to terrify
Gods Foes, & all Hypocrites, by shewing the
Iudgments pronounced by the holy-ghost, against
all such. But, let none abuse this, or any such like Psalmes,
by repeating them in their owne quarrells, lest the Curses
fall on themselves.
[1]
Oh God my praise! now silence breake;
For, wicked men that guileful be,
With open Iawes, against me speake,
And, with false tongues, have slandred mee.
With hatefull words they mee enclose;
Without all Cause, with mee they warr,
And for my Love, they are my foes:
Yet, for their weal, my prayers are.
2
For my goodworks, ill deeds I gett;
My love with hate, they do requite:
Or'e them therefore, some Tyrant set;
At his right-hand, let Sathan waite.
Let Iustice, them to death persue,
Account it sinn for them to pray:
Cutt short their dayes; & make them fewe:
Let others take their place away.
3
Keep fatherles, their Orphane-breed,
And, husbandles, their widdow'd wives;
Yea, Cause thou their accursed feed,
To begg & wander all their lives.
Their vncouth denns, let then forsake;
To begg, what must their life sustaine:
Their labors, let oppressors take,
And, Strangers rob them of their gaine.
4
Let none regard, though they lament,
Nor pitty take on such a race:
But, quite away (in one descent)
Their of-spring, & their Name deface.
Let God, still, minde the guilt they drewe,
From both their parents, at their birth,
And, keep it allway's in his vewe,
Till they are nam'd no more, on earth.
5
For why, they no compassion shew'd,
To him that greev'd & pained lay.
But, they the needy foul persu'de:
The broken hart, they sought, to slay.
They Cursings Lov'd: let them be made
The part, therefore, of their just lot.
In Blessings, they no pleasures had;
And, therfor, they possesse them not.
6
With curses, they, themselves did clothe,
As with a gowne, or with a cloke;
Therefore, as oyle or water doth,
Through bones & bowells, let them soke;
Let Curses, them like Belts, inclose;
And, as their clothes, such men aray:
Ev'n thus, oh Lord, require my Foes
Who of my soul, amisse do say.
7
But, (for thy Name sake) save thou mee;
Deal wel with me, & mercy daigne:
For, wounded is my hart in mee;
And, I am pore, & full of paine.
I vanish like an Evening shade,
I, Locust like, am tost about:
My knees, are weake through fasting made;
My flesh is leane, & wasted out.
8
They, mee despise ev'n to my face,
And, scornfull nods, at mee they make.
Oh Lord my God! of thy meer grace,
To bring me help, now vndertake,
Make them to see, & then confesse,
That by thy hand I helped am;
Lord, though they Curse, yet do thou blesse,
And, let them rise, to see their shame.
9
But, make oh Lord, thy Servants glad;
Whilst they, that my illwillers are,
With shame (ev'n their owne shame) are clad,
As if with Robes arayd they were.
My tongue shall praise thee then, therfore,
Confessing, where Assemblies be,
That God is Patron of the pore;
And, from false doomes, their soules doth free.
