Petrarchs seven penitentiall psalms paraphrastically translated: With other Philosophicall Poems, and a Hymne to Christ vpon the Crosse. Written by George Chapman |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IIII. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
THE I. PSALME
|
Petrarchs seven penitentiall psalms | ||
27
THE I. PSALME
more strictly translated.
1
O me accurst, since I haue set on me(Incenst so sternely) my so meeke Redeemer;
And haue bene proud in prides supreme degree;
Of his so serious law, a sleight esteemer.
2
I left the narrow right way with my will,In bywaies brode, and farre about transferred:
And euery way found toyle, and euery ill,
Yet still in tracts more rough, and steepe I erred.
3
Where one or other of the brutish heardMy feete encounterd, yet more brute affected:
Euen to the dens of sauage beasts I err'd,
And there my manlesse mansion house erected.
4
I haunted pleasure still, where sorrow mournd,28
I hop't for rest, where restlesse torment burnd,
In ruines bosome, sleepes securely taking.
5
Now then, aye me, what resteth to be done,Where shall I turne me, where such dangers trēble?
My youths faire flowres, are altogether gone,
And now a wretched shipwracke I resemble.
6
That (all the merchandise, and venture lost,)Swims naked forth, with seas and tempests tost.
7
Farre from my hauen, I roue, touch at no stremeThat any course to my saluation tenders:
But waies sinister, rauish me with them:
I see a little; which more grieuous renders
8
My inward conflict; since my charges passeVpon my selfe; and my sad soule endanger:
Anger with sinne striues; but so huge a masse
Of cruell miseries oppresse mine anger,
29
9
That it confounds me, nor leaues place for breath,Oft I attempt to flie, and meditation
Contends to shake off my old yoke of death,
But to my bones cleaues the vncur'd vexation.
10
O that at length, my necke his yoke could cleare,Which would be straite, wouldst thou ô highest will it:
O that so angrie with my sinne I were,
That I could loue thee, though thus late fulfill it.
11
But much I feare it, since my freedome isSo with mine owne hands out of heart, & sterued:
And I must yeeld, my torment iust in this,
Sorrow, and labor, wring me most deserued.
12
Mad wretch, what haue I to my selfe procured?Mine owne hands forg'd, the chains I haue endur'd.
13
In deaths blacke ambush, with my will I fell,30
Nets are disposde for me, by him of hell.
When more retir'd, more narrow paths containe me.
14
There meete my feete with fitted snares as sure,I (wretch looke downeward, and of one side euer;
And euerie slipperie way I walke secure,
My sins forget their traitrous flatteries neuer.
15
I thought the grace of youth could neuer erre,And follow'd where his boundles force wold driue me,
Said to my selfe; Why should th' extremes deterre,
Before youths season, of the meane depriue me?
16
Each age is bounded in his proper ends;God, I know, sees this, but he laughs and sees it:
Pardon, at any time, on prayre attends;
Repentance still weeps when thy wish decrees it.
17
Then vilest custome challengeth his slaue,And laies on hand, that all defence denies me;
31
Subdu'd I am, and farre my refuge flies me.
17
Die in my sinne I shall, vnlesse my aideStoopes from aloft, of which deserts depriue me.
Yet haue thou mercie, Lord, helpe one dismaide,
Thy word retain, & from hell mouth retriue me.
All glorie to the Father be,
And to the Sonne as great as he:
With the coequall sacred Spirit;
Who all beginnings were before,
Are, and shall be euermore.
Glorie, all glorie to their merit.
And to the Sonne as great as he:
With the coequall sacred Spirit;
Who all beginnings were before,
Are, and shall be euermore.
Glorie, all glorie to their merit.
Petrarchs seven penitentiall psalms | ||