Another of the same.
[Preserve me Lord; for, I on thee depend]
[1]
Preserve me Lord; for, I on thee depend;
And, for her Lord, my soul professes thee.
Though to thy self, my wealth no profit lend,
Thy Saints on earth, my love shall therby see.
But, they shall feel their sorrow still encreased,
Whose offrings are to other Gods addressed.
2
Their bloudie-drinck-oblation to present,
Or, with my lipps so name them, I disdaine:
Thou art my Lott, where with I am content;
Thou for my cupp, a portion shalt maintaine.
To me, the Lines a goodly share divided;
And praisd be God, that me so well hath guided.
3
My reines likewise, instruct me in the night:
Before mine eyes, the Lord still seemes to stand;
And, sure, I shall preserved be vpright,
Because, the Lord remaines at my right-hand.
It glads my hart; with joy my tongue now singeth;
And, hopefull rest, vnto my fleash it bringeth.
4
For why; my soul thou shalt not leave in hell,
Nor let thy holy-one corruption see:
But, vnto me, thy path of life reveal,
Which thither tends, wher joies perfections be;
Ev'n thither, where at thy right-hand attending.
Those plæsures are, which never shal haue ending.
