My Haires are not in number more;
Then my uninjur'd Enemies.
The great in wrong against me rise;
I, what I never tooke, restore.
My God, Thou know'st my Innocence:
Let not the faithfull blush for me,
Traduc'd by slanderous Impudence:
Nor ô! let those that call on Thee,
Their shame in my Confusion see;
Since Thou art our profest Defence.
For Thee I suffer Calumnies;
To Men become a generall scorne;
Deserted by my neare Allies;
By children of my Mother borne:
Through zeale unto thy Honour worne,
While thy reproch upon me lies.
I fasted, wept, in Sack-cloth mourn'd;
My anguish in my lookes exprest:
Yet this to my derision turn'd;
By Drunkards sung at every Feast:
Even Judges at my sorrow jest;
My Innocence by slander spurn'd.
[Part 2] Yet shall my Praiers and Sighes ascend
Even in an acceptable houre.
Thy Mercie, gracious Lord, extend;
And save by thy Almightie Power.
Let not the swallowing mud devoure:
Preserve from such a shamefull end.
Deliver from th'insulting Foe;
My strugling Feet from sinking keepe:
Let not the Billowes overflow,
Nor Whirle-pits sucke into their Deepe.
O pitie Thou the Eies that weepe:
And thy Transcendent Mercie show.
Heare, and redeeme without delay;
Nor in my trouble hide thy Face:
Lest I become a wretched prey
To such as have my Soule in chase.
My shame, indignities, disgrace
And all their crimes before Thee lay.