Psalme LXXIII.
[That Power of powers, who Israel protects]
[Part 1.]
That Power of powers, who Israel protects,
The Pure of heart eternally affects.
Yet I began to stagger in my Faith;
My Feet almost had swerved from his Path,
VVhen I the Foole beheld with envious eyes;
Saw prosperous Vice to Wealth and Honour rise.
Their Thread of Life is close and firmly spun;
Whom feeble Age, and pale Diseases shun.
They, while we suffer, surfeit in content;
As if alone exempt from punishment.
Pride hangs like precious Chains about their necks;
And Violence in robes of Purple decks.
Their swolne eyes shine with uncontroll'd excesse;
Who more, then what their hearts can wish, possesse.
Even glory in their foule Impietie;
And speake like Thunder from the troubled Skie.
Dire Blasphemies against high Heaven they cast;
The suffering Earth their Pride and Slander blast.
The Good not seldome through their Scandall stray,
And prest with Miseries, in Passion say;
O how can we the Lord All-seeing call!
Or think he cares what unto men befall!
When lo! the Wicked with successe are crown'd,
And in the pleasures of this world abound.
I to no end have purg'd my heart of staine;
In Innocence have cleans'd my hands in vaine;
That thus with daily punishments am worne,
And still chastised with the rising Morne.
Part. 2.
If I gave words unto such thoughts as these,
I should th'assemblies of thy Saints displease:
For then, what were it to be just, or good?
My Soule this secret never understood;
Till I into thy Sanctuarie came,
And there beheld their honour end in Shame.
Thou hast on slippery hights their greatnesse plac'd;
Downe Head-long from their Noone of glory cast.
How are they unto Desolation brought!
Consumed in the moment of a thought!
Such as a pleasant dreame when Sleepe forsakes
Our flattered sense: so, when thy Wrath awakes,
Thou in thy dreadfull furie shalt destroy
Their emptie and Imaginary joy.
These former thoughts did my weake Soule molest;
So ignorant; so vaine; so like a beast.
Yet I by thy Divine supportance stand:
Thou heldst me up by thy Almightie hand.
Thou by thy counsell shalt direct my waies;
And after to eternall Glorie raise.
For whom have I but Thee in Heaven above?
Or what on Earth can my Affections move?
My Thoughts and flesh are fraile: yet Lord, thou art
My Portion, and the Vigour of my Heart.
Who thee abandon, shall to Death descend;
And they whose knees to cursed Idols bend.
I as my dutie, will to God repaire;
On Him relie, and his great Acts declare.
