 | The Poems of Alexander Montgomerie |  |
PSALME LVII.
Have reuth on me—
Haue reuth on me,
O Lord, from hie,
Haue mercy, Lord: in thee my soule doth trust:
Vntill at last
This stormie blast
Be ouer-past,
In shadow of thy winges my hope shall rest.
On God most high I call,
My heart's delyte;
Who will his promise all
To me perfite.
From heauen's throne,
He will send downe,
And saue me from the sharp rebuke and shame
Of cruell foes
That me inclose:
His mercie sure shall keepe me from al blame.
Haue reuth on me,
O Lord, from hie,
258
Vntill at last
This stormie blast
Be ouer-past,
In shadow of thy winges my hope shall rest.
On God most high I call,
My heart's delyte;
Who will his promise all
To me perfite.
From heauen's throne,
He will send downe,
And saue me from the sharp rebuke and shame
Of cruell foes
That me inclose:
His mercie sure shall keepe me from al blame.
I lie beset
With lyons net;
And men are met,
In fyrie rage, my seelie soule to catch;
Whose teeth, I weene,
Like arrowes keene
Are to be seene;
Their tongues like swordes, some mischeef for to hatch.
Exalt thy selfe, therefore,
The heauens aboue:
On earth shew forth thy glore,
And power proue.
A snare is made,
And grins are laide,
My steps to trap, my fate to fold withall.
I am opprest:
A ditche is drest
For me—bot, loe! my foes therein doe fall.
With lyons net;
And men are met,
In fyrie rage, my seelie soule to catch;
Whose teeth, I weene,
Like arrowes keene
Are to be seene;
Their tongues like swordes, some mischeef for to hatch.
Exalt thy selfe, therefore,
The heauens aboue:
On earth shew forth thy glore,
And power proue.
A snare is made,
And grins are laide,
My steps to trap, my fate to fold withall.
I am opprest:
A ditche is drest
For me—bot, loe! my foes therein doe fall.
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My heart is bent,
And permanent,
With full intent
To praise the Lord, and to extoll his name.
“My tongue,” alway
“Awake,” I say,
By breake of day:
“My harpe, in haste, and viole, doe the same.”
I will thee praise among
The people all:
As God and Lord most strong
Thee praise I shall.
Thy mercies grit,
And treuth perfite
Doe reache vnto the heauens and cloudie sky:
Exalt, therefore,
Thy name and glore
Aboue the clouds and limites of the day.
And permanent,
With full intent
To praise the Lord, and to extoll his name.
“My tongue,” alway
“Awake,” I say,
By breake of day:
“My harpe, in haste, and viole, doe the same.”
I will thee praise among
The people all:
As God and Lord most strong
Thee praise I shall.
Thy mercies grit,
And treuth perfite
Doe reache vnto the heauens and cloudie sky:
Exalt, therefore,
Thy name and glore
Aboue the clouds and limites of the day.
| The Poems of Alexander Montgomerie | |