Another of the same.
[Lord, why standest thou so farr?]
[1]
Lord, why standest thou so farr?
Why at need, am I forsaken?
Poremen, wrondg'd by Tirants are;
Let them in those guiles, be taken,
Which by them contrived were.
2
For, in boast, the Sinner sayes;
That, his longings he possesseth:
He, the Covetous doth praise,
(And their practises he blesseth)
Though the Lord abhors their waies.
3
Proud & loftie lookes, hath he,
God, nor seeking, nor beleeving:
All his Courses greevous be;
And thy judgments (past conceivinge)
Are too high for him to see.
4
With contempt he sleights his foes,
Fearing neither falls nor sliding:
From his mouth much cursing flowes,
Vnderneath his tongue, still hiding,
Mischeef, sinn, & guilefull showes.
5
In blinde paths, he lurks & pries,
Harmles men to spoile & murther:
At the pore he darts his eyes,
And (unseene) his drifts to further,
Like the denned lion, lies.
6
He doth watch the pore to spoile,
Whome he snares & ouerthroweth:
For, to take him in his toyle,
He with humble crowchings boweth,
Ceazing him by force, the while.
7
Then, in hart, thus muzeth he;
God shall sleightly passe it over;
Hide his face, & never see:
But, rise Lord, thy strength discover,
That the meek aven'gd may be.
8
Let not Sinners mock thee soe,
As if thou didst nought regard it:
Lo; thou see'st, yea see'st them do
Spightfull wrong; &, to reward it,
Thou shalt set thy hand there-to.
9
Thou, art poremens hopefull stay,
Orphanes helper, in oppression:
Break the Sinners armes I pray,
Serch thou after his transgression,
And, then, purg it all away.
10
God who raignes for evermore,
From his land, the Gentiles driveth;
Hears, & chears, & helps the pore;
And, the Orphane so reviveth,
That, he feares not, as before.
