Psalm XXXI.
1
Lord let me never be asham'd,
Because I trust in thee,
But in thy truth and righteousness,
O Lord deliver me.
2
Bow down thine ear and help me soon,
Thou art my strong defence:
My rock, my Fort, in whom I place,
My hope and confidence.
3
In mercy lead, and guide me Lord,
And pluck me from the net,
And from the snares of wicked men,
Which they for me have set.
4
Into thy hands, O Lord my strength,
My spirit I commit:
Thou art the true and faithful God,
Who hast redeemed it.
5
I ever have abhorred those,
That vanities regard:
Let them in their false idols hope,
My trust is in the Lord.
6
In thee I boast, and will rejoyce,
Who hast consider'd me:
And when mine enemies shut me up,
Thy hand did set me free.
7
Have mercy Lord now once again,
And send me some relief:
For now my heart is overwhelm'd,
And eyes consum'd with grief.
8
My life is spent, and all my years,
With bitter sighs and groans:
My grief and anguish for my sins,
Hath dry'd my very bones.
9
To friends and foes I am a scorn,
But most to neighbours near;
Who, when they see me, turn away,
As if they were in fear.
10
Like to a dead man out of mind,
I now forgotten lye:
As broken potsheards cast away,
So much despis'd am I.
11
I hear of all their sland'rous words,
And cruel plottings too:
Who every where against my life,
Take counsel what to do.
12
But, Lord my God, I trust in thee;
My times are in thy power:
O save me from mine enemies,
And them that would devour.
13
O smile upon thy servant, Lord,
For thy great mercies sake:
And let me never be asham'd,
When I my prayer make.
14
Let lying lips ashamed be,
And silent in the dust,
Who proudly and contemptuously,
Abuse the good and just.
15
For them that fear thy name, O Lord,
What mercies are in store!
What mighty works were done for them,
And wonders heretofore!
16
Within the secret of thy house,
Thou wilt them safely hide:
And keep them from the threatning words,
Of all the men of pride.
17
Blest be the Lord, who saved me,
As in a Fortress high:
I said in hast, I am cut off,
But thou didst hear my cry.
17
O love the lord, all ye his saints,
Who keeps his faithful flock;
And plentifully will repay,
The proud that scorn and mock.
18
Be strong then, ye that hope in him,
And be no more dismaid:
The mighty God is on your side,
Whose strength can never fade.
