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| 62. | Psalm 62 Nonne Deo |
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 | The psalms |  |
120
Psalm 62 Nonne Deo
Yet shall my soule in silence still
On God, my help, attentive stay:
Yet he my fort, my health, my hill,
Remove I may not, move I may.
How long then shall your fruitlesse will
An enimy soe farr from fall,
With weake endevor strive to kill,
You rotten hedg, you broken wall?
On God, my help, attentive stay:
Yet he my fort, my health, my hill,
Remove I may not, move I may.
How long then shall your fruitlesse will
An enimy soe farr from fall,
With weake endevor strive to kill,
You rotten hedg, you broken wall?
Forsooth, that hee no more may rise,
Advaunced eft to throne and crown:
To headlong him their thoughtes devise,
And, past reliefe, to tread him downe.
Their love is only love of lies:
Their wordes and deedes dissenting soe,
When from their lippes most blessing flyes,
Then deepest curse in hart doth grow.
Advaunced eft to throne and crown:
To headlong him their thoughtes devise,
And, past reliefe, to tread him downe.
Their love is only love of lies:
Their wordes and deedes dissenting soe,
When from their lippes most blessing flyes,
Then deepest curse in hart doth grow.
Yet shall my soule in silence still
On God, my hope, attentive stay:
Yet hee my fort, my health, my hill,
Remove? O no: not move I may.
My God doth me with glory fill,
Not only shield me safe from harme:
To shun distresse, to conquer ill,
To him I clime, in him I arme.
On God, my hope, attentive stay:
Yet hee my fort, my health, my hill,
Remove? O no: not move I may.
My God doth me with glory fill,
Not only shield me safe from harme:
To shun distresse, to conquer ill,
To him I clime, in him I arme.
O then on God, our certaine stay,
All people in all times rely:
Your hartes before him naked lay,
To Adams sonnes tis vain to fly,
Soe vain soe false, soe fraile are they,
Ev'n he that seemeth most of might
With lightnesse self if him you waigh,
Then lightnesse self will waigh more light.
All people in all times rely:
Your hartes before him naked lay,
To Adams sonnes tis vain to fly,
Soe vain soe false, soe fraile are they,
Ev'n he that seemeth most of might
With lightnesse self if him you waigh,
Then lightnesse self will waigh more light.
121
In fraud, and force, noe trust repose:
Such idle hopes from thoughtes expell,
And take good heed, when riches growes
Let not your hart on riches dwell.
All powre is Gods, his own word showes,
Once said by him, twice heard by me:
Yet from thee, Lord, all mercy flowes,
And each manns work is paid by thee.
Such idle hopes from thoughtes expell,
And take good heed, when riches growes
Let not your hart on riches dwell.
All powre is Gods, his own word showes,
Once said by him, twice heard by me:
Yet from thee, Lord, all mercy flowes,
And each manns work is paid by thee.
| The psalms | |