The Psalmes Of David In Meeter Newly translated, and diligently compared with the Originall Text, and former Translations: More plaine, smooth, and agreeable to the Text, then any heretofore. Allowed by the Authority of the Generall Assembly of the Kirk of Scotland, and appointed to be sung in Congregations and Families [by Francis Rous] |
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| XXXIX. | PSAL. XXXIX. |
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 | The Psalmes Of David In Meeter |  |
PSAL. XXXIX.
I said, I wil look to my wayes,
lest with my tongue I sin:
In sight of wicked men my mouth
with bridle I'le keep in.
With silence, I as dumb became,
I did my self restrain
From speaking good, but thē the more
increased was my pain.
lest with my tongue I sin:
In sight of wicked men my mouth
with bridle I'le keep in.
With silence, I as dumb became,
I did my self restrain
From speaking good, but thē the more
increased was my pain.
My heart within me waxed hot,
and while I musing was,
The fire did burn & from my tongue
these words I did let passe.
Mine end, and measure of my daies,
O Lord, unto me show
What is the same: that I thereby,
my frailtie well may know.
and while I musing was,
The fire did burn & from my tongue
these words I did let passe.
Mine end, and measure of my daies,
O Lord, unto me show
What is the same: that I thereby,
my frailtie well may know.
Lo, thou my dayes an hand-breadth mad'st,
mine age is in thine eye
As nothing: sure each man at best
is wholly vanity.
Sure, each man walks in a vain show:
they vex themselves in vain:
He heaps up wealth, and doth not know
to whom it shall pertain.
mine age is in thine eye
As nothing: sure each man at best
is wholly vanity.
Sure, each man walks in a vain show:
they vex themselves in vain:
He heaps up wealth, and doth not know
to whom it shall pertain.
And now, O Lord, what wait I for?
my hope is fix'd on thee.
Free me from all my trespasses,
the fools scorn make not me.
Dumb was I, opening not my mouth,
because this work was thine.
Thy stroke take from me: by the blow
of thine hand, I do pine.
my hope is fix'd on thee.
Free me from all my trespasses,
the fools scorn make not me.
Dumb was I, opening not my mouth,
because this work was thine.
Thy stroke take from me: by the blow
of thine hand, I do pine.
When with rebukes thou dost correct
man, for iniquity,
Thou wastes his beauty like a moth:
sure each man's vanity.
Attend my cry, Lord, at my tears,
and prayr's not silent be.
I sojourn as my fathers all,
and stranger am with thee.
man, for iniquity,
Thou wastes his beauty like a moth:
sure each man's vanity.
Attend my cry, Lord, at my tears,
and prayr's not silent be.
I sojourn as my fathers all,
and stranger am with thee.
| The Psalmes Of David In Meeter | |