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

God unto Israel is kind;
To those are cleane in mind.
Yet had my wav'ring feet, and faith
Almost forsook their path.
For I to envy could not cease
At fools, and sinners peace:
Who not impaire in ages length,
Nor lessen'd are in strength.

They not like others troubled are,
Nor plagu'd with common care.
They therefore are with proud disdaine
Compass'd, as with a chaine:
And as a garment for defence,
Cover'd with violence.
Their wanton eye with fatnesse swells;
And wealth their wish excells.

131

They most corrupt oppresse the weak,
And arrogantly speak.
They set their mouth 'gainst heaven to talk,
Their tongue through earth doth walk.
Therefore Gods people, when they see,
How prosp'rous sinners be:
And vexed with their sorrowes sense,
Incline to their defense.

So words like these their passion throwes;
How should we thinke, God knowes;
Who lets the wicked live in health,
And daily grow in wealth?
Why vertue then should I retaine?
I cleanse my heart in vaine.
In vaine my hands held from offense
I wash in innocence.

For all the daies my life hath seen,
I have afflicted been;
My Soule, with wants and sorrowes worne,
Was chast'ned every morne.
Yet, should I not these murmurs check,
But thus disturbed speak;
I might thy Children so offend,
And Thee blaspheming end.

Second Part.

But this I found by flesh and blood
Hard to be understood:

132

Nor, till I to Thy Temple went,
Could know, what these things meant.
Then I discern'd, what they portend,
And how the wicked end:
Whom Thou in slippery fortunes plac't
Do'st unto ruin cast.

How are their glories, quick as thought,
To desolation brought?
They in a moment turn'd to teares
Consume by their own feares.
God, as a dreame when one awakes,
Their Image vanish makes.
Causing their late admirers eyes
Them now as much despise.

Thus was my heart perplex'd with paines
And anguish prick'd my reines;
So foolish in my thoughts disrest
Am I, so like a beast.
Yet I by Thee am still sustain'd,
Held up by Thy Right hand.
Thy counsail here shall me direct,
Then crown with Thine Elect.

Whom have I in the heav'ns, but Thee?
Who can my Saviour be?
And through the spatious earth I none
Desire, but Thee alone.

133

My drooping heart doth daily faile,
My flesh corrupt and fraile:
But Thou the strength'ner of my heart,
And lasting portion art.

Who far from Thee revolting fly,
Shall perish utterly.
For Thou destroy'st, and castest low
Such as to Idols bow.
But it is good, with holy feare
That I to God draw neare:
To Thee my hopes entrusted are,
Who will Thy works declare.

University of Virginia Library

Psal. LXXIII.

[First Part]

Second Part.