PSALME LXI.
As the 13.
MY God, thy Servant heare;
O lend a willing eare!
In exile my sad heart,
From Earths remotest part,
O'rewhelm'd with Miseries,
To Thee for succour cries.
To that High Rock O leade,
So farre above my head!
That wert, and art my Tower,
Against oppressing Power.
For to thy sacred Court
I ever shall resort;
Secure beneath thy wings,
From all their menacings:
Even Thou my suit hast sign'd;
A King by Thee design'd,
To governe such as will.
Thy holy Law fulfill.
Whom Thou long life wilt give,
He Ages shall out-live;
His Throne shall stand before
Thy Face for evermore▪
Thy Mercy, Lord, extend;
Him for thy Truth defend.
Then I in chearfull Layes
Will celebrate thy praise;
And to Thee every day
My Vowes devoutly pay.