 | The Poems of Alexander Montgomerie |  |
264
PSALME CXXI.
When I behold
These montanes cold,
Can I be bold
To take my journey through this wildernesse,
Wherein doth stand,
On eyther hand,
A bloudie band,
To cut me off with cruell craftinesse?
Heere, subtle Sathan's slight
Doth me assaill:
Ther, his proud worldly might
Thinks to preuaill.
In euerie place,
With pleasant face,
The snares of sinne besets me round about;
With poysone sweete
To slay the spirite,
Conspyred all, to take my life, no doubt.
These montanes cold,
Can I be bold
To take my journey through this wildernesse,
Wherein doth stand,
On eyther hand,
A bloudie band,
To cut me off with cruell craftinesse?
Heere, subtle Sathan's slight
Doth me assaill:
Ther, his proud worldly might
Thinks to preuaill.
In euerie place,
With pleasant face,
The snares of sinne besets me round about;
With poysone sweete
To slay the spirite,
Conspyred all, to take my life, no doubt.
But God is hee
Will succour mee,
And let me see
His sauing health ay readie at command:
Euen Iehova,
That creat al,
Both great and smal,
In heauen and aire, and in the sea and land.
Freat not, my fearefull heart,
My breast within:
This God will take thy part,
Thy course to rin.
He will thee guyde;
Thou shalt not slyde;
Thy feet shall steadfast stand in the right way:
He will thee keepe;
He will not sleepe,
Nor suffer foes to catch thee as a pray.
Will succour mee,
And let me see
His sauing health ay readie at command:
Euen Iehova,
That creat al,
Both great and smal,
In heauen and aire, and in the sea and land.
Freat not, my fearefull heart,
My breast within:
This God will take thy part,
Thy course to rin.
He will thee guyde;
Thou shalt not slyde;
265
He will thee keepe;
He will not sleepe,
Nor suffer foes to catch thee as a pray.
The Lord doth keepe
Israel his sheepe,
And will not sleepe.
Beneath his shadow thou shalt saiflie ly.
Right sure and firme,
With his right arme,
Saue the from harme
He shall; and all thy fearefull foes defy.
The day, hote sunnes offence
Shall not thee greeue;
Nor cold moones influence,
By night, the moue.
God, of his grace,
From his high place,
Shall saue thee from all ill: in euerie way
Thou goes about,
Both in and out,
He shall the blesse and prosper, now and ay.
Israel his sheepe,
And will not sleepe.
Beneath his shadow thou shalt saiflie ly.
Right sure and firme,
With his right arme,
Saue the from harme
He shall; and all thy fearefull foes defy.
The day, hote sunnes offence
Shall not thee greeue;
Nor cold moones influence,
By night, the moue.
God, of his grace,
From his high place,
Shall saue thee from all ill: in euerie way
Thou goes about,
Both in and out,
He shall the blesse and prosper, now and ay.
| The Poems of Alexander Montgomerie | |