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The Psalmes of David, from the New Translation of the Bible Turned into Meter

To be Sung after the Old Tunes used in the Churches [by Henry King]

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 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 XVI. 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 XXII. 
 XXIII. 
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
 XXVI. 
 XXVII. 
 XXVIII. 
 XXIX. 
 XXX. 
 XXXI. 
 XXXII. 
 XXXIII. 
 XXXIV. 
 XXXV. 
 XXXVI. 
 XXXVII. 
 XXXVIII. 
 XXXIX. 
 XL. 
 XLI. 
 XLII. 
 XLIII. 
 XLIV. 
 XLV. 
 XLVI. 
 XLVII. 
 XLVIII. 
 XLIX. 
 L. 
Psal. L.
 LI. 
 LII. 
 LIII. 
 LIV. 
 LV. 
 LVI. 
 LVII. 
 LVIII. 
 LIX. 
 LX. 
 LXI. 
 LXII. 
 LXIII. 
 LXIV. 
 LXV. 
 LXVI. 
 LXVII. 
 LXVIII. 
 LXIX. 
 LXX. 
 LXXI. 
 LXXII. 
 LXXIII. 
 LXXIV. 
 LXXV. 
 LXXVI. 
 LXXVII. 
 LXXVIII. 
 LXXIX. 
 LXXX. 
 LXXXI. 
 LXXXII. 
 LXXXIII. 
 LXXXIV. 
 LXXXV. 
 LXXXVI. 
 LXXXVII. 
 LXXXVIII. 
 LXXXIX. 
 XC. 
 XCI. 
 XCII. 
 XCIII. 
 XCIV. 
 XCV. 
 XCVI. 
 XCVII. 
 XCVIII. 
 XCIX. 
 C. 
 CI. 
 CII. 
 CIII. 
 CIV. 
 CV. 
 CVI. 
 CVII. 
 CVIII. 
 CIX. 
 CX. 
 CXI. 
 CXII. 
 CXIII. 
 CXIV. 
 CXV. 
 CXVI. 
 CXVII. 
 CXVIII. 
 CXIX. 
 CXX. 
 CXXI. 
 CXXII. 
 CXXIII. 
 CXXIV. 
  
 CXXV. 
 CXXVI. 
 CXXVII. 
 CXXVIII. 
 CXXIX. 
 CXXX. 
  
 CXXXI. 
 CXXXII. 
 CXXXIII. 
 CXXXIV. 
 CXXXV. 
 CXXXVI. 
 CXXXVII. 
 CXXXVIII. 
 CXXXIX. 
 CXL. 
 CXLI. 
 CXLII. 
 CXLIII. 
 CXLIV. 
 CXLV. 
 CXLVI. 
 CXLVII. 
 CXLVIII. 
 CXLIX. 
 CL. 

Psal. L.

[_]

To the proper Tune.

The God of might,
Unto the earth did call,
From the Suns light
To his declining fall.
From Sion faire
The Lord himselfe hath shone,
God shall repaire,
In noise and terrour know'n.
Usher'd with Flame
Wrapt in a stormy cloud,
He shall proclaime
To earth his judgment lowd.
My Saints collect
To me with offrings sworne;
Heav'ns shall detect
The justice by Him borne.
My people heare,
O Israel, I speak,

89

And witnesse beare
'Gainst thee, my Lawes dost break.
I not reprove
Thy sacrifices faile,
No goates I love,
Nor Bullocks from thy stall.
Mine is each beast
Which the wild Forrests feed,
Ev'n to the least
Which thousand hils doe breed:
The fowles I know
Which on the Mountaines fly,
The wild beasts owe
Which in the desart ly.
If I would eat,
I need not tell it thee;
The whole worlds meat,
And it, belongs to me.
That I require
Bulls flesh, why should'st thou think,
Burnt in the fire?
Or blood of goats would drink?
Thanksgivings bring,
And pay to God thy vowes;
This offering
He as the best allowes:
And on Me call
In thine afflicted dayes,

90

I save thee shall,
And thou shalt give Me praise.
But to the bad
(Saith God) why should you dare,
The Lawes I made,
Or Statutes to declare?
Why doe ye vaunt
In your un-hallow'd mouth,
My Covenant?
Whose hearts instruction loath.
Thou did'st consent
When thou a thief hadst seen:
Thy foule intent
Hath with adult'rers been.
Thou to all ill
Thy mouth do'st dedicate,
Thy false tongue still
Is uttering deceit:
Thou do'st back-bite,
To work thy brothers shame,
And full of spight
Thy Mothers sonne defame.
This hast thou done,
And whilst I silent sate,
Thou thought'st Me one
Who had, like thee, forgate.

91

But I will hast,
And order'd 'fore thine eyes
Present at last
All these impieties.
Consider ye!
Who God, nor judgment fear,
Least anger'd He
Your soules in pieces teare.
Who offers praise,
Me honours; and th' upright,
After earthes dayes,
Shall dwell in endlesse light.