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The Works in Verse and Prose

(including hitherto unpublished Mss.) of Sir John Davies: for the first time collected and edited: With memorial-introductions and notes: By the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart. In three volumes

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PSALM XXXI.

In Thee, O Lord! haue I put all my trust,
Then rescue mee from shame, as Thou art just;
Giue eare, and soone from perill sett mee free;
Bee Thou a Rocke and stronge defence to mee;
Thou art my Rocke and Castle when I stray;
Bee Thou my Guide, and leade mee in the way.
Thou art my strength; O cleare mee from that net
Which priuily my foes for mee haue sett!
Into Thy handes my soule I doe committ:

403

Lord God of truth Thou hast redeemèd it.
I hate all those which in vain lies delight,
For all my trust is in the Lord of might.
Thy mercies glad my heart: for in my woe
Thou hast vouchsaft my [weary] soule to knowe.
Thou hast not left mee prisoner with my foe,
But sett mee free that I at large may goe.
Yeild to my trubles mercifull releife,
My eares waxe deafe, my heart doth melt with greife.
Few are my yeares, in number to be tould,
Yet sorrow, care, and greife, hath made mee ould;
My strength with prayer and anguish doth decay,
My joynts growe weake, my bones consume away;
I am a scorne to all my enimies,
But specially my Neighbours mee dispise;
My very presence did my freinds affright,
And all my ould acquaintance shun my sight.
I am forgott as if I buried lay
And viler then a broken pott of clay.
I heard the waylings of the multitude
And trembled while they did my death conclude
But all my hope hath beene O Lord in Thee,
Whome I professe my only Lord to bee;
My tyme is in Thy hand, O doe not leaue
Mee in their hands which would my life bereue.
O turne to mee the brightnes of Thy face,

404

And saue mee through Thy mercy and Thy grace;
Make not mee blush which did invoke Thy name,
But put my foes to silence and to shame;
And let the lipps bee dumbe which vtter lyes
Against the righteous in spightfull-wise.
O what blessings, dost Thou keepe in store
For them that feare and loue Thee euermore;
Thou shalt protect them from the great mens' pride,
And in Thy Tent from stormes of tongues them hide.
Blest bee the Lord Whose mercies manifold
Doe keepe mee safer then the strongest hold;
When I with passion was transported quite
I said I was sequester'd from His sight;
And yet for all my weaknes, heard was I,
When to my Maker I did make my crie.
Loue Him yee Saints of His who guardeth those
Who trust in Him: and pay'st their proudest foes.
Yee that rely on Him be strong of hart
And Hee to you shall heauenly strength jmpart.