Psal. 88.
[_]
A song or Psalm for the Sonns of Chorah, to the
cheef Musitian vpon Mahalath Leanoth Maschil of
Heman, the Ezrahite. It personates Christ & his members
complaining of his & their sorrowes, contempts & suffrings
&c. And it is full of passionate petitions & expostulations.
We may vse it in private or Publike afflictions.
[1]
Lord, of whose assisting might,
I was never yet denied;
All the day, & all the night,
I, to thee have call'd & cried:
Now, regard my wofull plight.
2
Let thine Ear, thy Minde, thine Eyes,
To the dropping, pleading, cryeng;
Of my Teares, my Cause, my Cries,
Grant me, hearing, weighing, eyeng;
For, my soul afflicted lies.
3
I, to Death am drawing nigh,
And am priz'd as one interred;
Like a strengthles man I lye,
As algeady slaine, and buried:
Free among the dead, am I.
4
Yea, as one forgot of thee,
(Or, as from thy hand Abiected)
Darksome pitts, my lodging be,
And in Dungeons deep afflicted,
Thy strict hand oppresseth mee.
5
All thy, waves I doe sustaine,
Thou dost make my Lovers flee mee;
And my freinds fro me restarine:
Shutt I am, where none cann free me,
Then, how cann I tears refraine?
6
Lord, my greefs to thee I showe,
With my hands to thee vp-raised.
Cann the dead thy wonders knowe?
Or thy Love or truth be praised,
By the Sonns of Death belowe?
7
Caan, thy Marvailes, they vnfold,
Who in darknes, quite are blinded?
Or thy Iustice, there be tolde,
Where, is nothing said or minded,
Which was done in times of olde.
8
Vnto thee, oh Lord I crie,
And, my suites prevent the Morninge;
Oh! why dost thou cast me by?
Still fro mee thy presence turninge,
Who am greev'd, & like to dy?
9
Fro my youth oh Lord, till now,
Mee, thy terror hath destressed,
Nigh distract, it makes me grow;
For, thy wrath hath mee oppressed,
And, thy feares have brought me lowe.
10
They, besett me ev'rie day,
Floud-like, flowing alltogether;
And no freinds, to help me, stay
(Lovers, nor Familiers neither)
For, thou driv'st them all away.