University of Virginia Library

Psalmes. C.xii. Beatus vir qui timet.



The man is blest, that feareth God
And walketh in hys waye:
That in hys lawe, hath hys delyght
And doth hys wyll obaye.


Hys seade on earth, shall prosper well
And wondrouslye increase:
The faythfull flock, shal be blessed
Wyth euerlastinge peace.
Hys house wyth rytches, shall abounde
Wyth plenty and great store:
Hys ryghteousnes shall styl indure
And last for euermore.
Unto the man, that mercy sheweth
And walketh here aryght:
From darknes great, shall then appeare
Unto hys eyes playne lyght.
O happy is, the mercyfull
That lendeth lyberallye:
And in hys words, is circumspert
And speaks aduysedlye.


No thinge shall moue, nor him molest
Ne yet him greue or payne:
The memory, of the ryghteous
For euer shall remayne.
No feare can make, him faynt at all
Nor no kynde of myschance:
Whose harte doth fermly, trust in God
In whom he hath affiance.
His harte so sure, is stablyshed
He wyll not shrynke at all:
Untyll he haue his enmyes made
To hym subiecte and thrall.
He hathe hys goods, abrode dysparst
And gyuen to the poore:
Hys ryghteousnes, remayne it shall
And dure for euermore.


The wycked and the vngodlye
Shall it beholde and se:
And wyll conceaue dyspleasure then
And sore offended be.
They shall for it, gnashe with theyr teath
And vanyshe quyte awaye:
And all their desyre, and their wyll
Shall peryshe and decaye.


To God for ayde, vve ought to call
In all aduersitie:
For he our prayers vvyll accept
And helpe vs spedelye.