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| 75. | Psalm 75 Confitebimur tibi |
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 | The psalms |  |
160
Psalm 75 Confitebimur tibi
Thee, God, O thee, wee sing, we celebrate:
Thy actes with wonder who but doth relate?
So kindly nigh thy name our need attendeth.
Sure I, when once the chardg I undergo
Of this assembly, will not faile to show
My judgments such, as justest rule commendeth.
Thy actes with wonder who but doth relate?
So kindly nigh thy name our need attendeth.
Sure I, when once the chardg I undergo
Of this assembly, will not faile to show
My judgments such, as justest rule commendeth.
The people loose, the land I shaken find:
This will I firmly propp, that straitly bind;
And then denounce my uncontrolled pleasure:
Bragg not you braggardes, you your saucy horne
Lift not, lewd mates: no more with heav'ns scorne
Daunce on in wordes your old repyning measure.
This will I firmly propp, that straitly bind;
And then denounce my uncontrolled pleasure:
Bragg not you braggardes, you your saucy horne
Lift not, lewd mates: no more with heav'ns scorne
Daunce on in wordes your old repyning measure.
Where sun first showes; or last enshades his light;
Divides the day, or pricks the midst of night;
Seeke not the fountayne whence preferment springeth.
Gods only fixed course that all doth sway,
Lymits dishonors night, and honors day,
The king his crowne, the slave his fetters bringeth.
Divides the day, or pricks the midst of night;
Seeke not the fountayne whence preferment springeth.
Gods only fixed course that all doth sway,
Lymits dishonors night, and honors day,
The king his crowne, the slave his fetters bringeth.
A troubled cupp is in Jehovas hand,
Where wine and wyny lees compounded stand,
Which franckly fild, as freely hee bestoweth;
Yet for their draught ungodly men doth give,
Gives all (not one except) that lewdly lyve,
Only what from the dreggs by wringing floweth.
Where wine and wyny lees compounded stand,
Which franckly fild, as freely hee bestoweth;
Yet for their draught ungodly men doth give,
Gives all (not one except) that lewdly lyve,
Only what from the dreggs by wringing floweth.
And I, secure, shall spend my happie tymes
In my, though lowly, never-dying rymes,
Singing with praise the God that Jacob loveth.
My princely care shall crop ill-doers low,
In glory plant, and make with glory grow
Who right approves, and doth what right approveth.
In my, though lowly, never-dying rymes,
Singing with praise the God that Jacob loveth.
My princely care shall crop ill-doers low,
In glory plant, and make with glory grow
Who right approves, and doth what right approveth.
| The psalms | |