PSALME LXXX.
As the 3.
THou Shepheard of thy Israel,
That, Flock-like, leadest Josephs Race:
Who twixt the Cherubims dost dwell,
O heare! shew thy inlightning Face.
A paraphrase upon the divine poems. By George Sandys
About this Item
- Title
- A paraphrase upon the divine poems. By George Sandys
- Author
- Sandys, George, 1578-1644.
- Publication
- London :: [Printed by John Legatt, sold] at the Bell in St. Pauls Church-yard [i.e. the shop of Andrew Hebb],
- M.DC.XXXVIII. [1638]
- Rights/Permissions
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- Link to this Item
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http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A11474.0001.001
- Cite this Item
-
"A paraphrase upon the divine poems. By George Sandys." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A11474.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 20, 2025.
Pages
Page 100
Exalt thy saving power before
Manasseh, Ephraim, Benjamin:
O from Captivity restore!
And let thy beames upon us shine.
Great God of Battaile, wilt thou still
Be angry, and our prayers despise?
Bread, steept in teares, our stomacks fill;
We drinke the rivers of our eyes.
Our scoffing Neighbours fall at strife
Among themselves, to share our right:
Great God, restore the dead to life;
And comfort by the quickning light.
[Part. 2] This Vine, from Aegypt brought, (the foe
Expeld) was planted by thy hand:
Thou gav'st it roome and strength to grow,
Vntill her branches fill'd the Land.
The Mountaines tooke a shade from these,
Which like a grove of Cedars stood:
Extending to the Tyrian Seas,
And to Euphrates rowling Floud.
O why hast thou her Fences ras't?
Whilst every Stragler puls her fruit:
The browsing Heard her branches waste;
And salvage Boores plow-up her root.
Great God, returne; this trampled Vine
From Heaven behold with mild aspect:
Once planted by that Hand of thine;
The branches of thy owne Elect.
Which now cut downe, wild Flames devoure;
Through thy fierce wrath to ruine brought:
Protect thy People by thy Power;
And perfect what thy selfe hath wrought.
Reviv'd, we will thy Name adore;
Nor ever from thy Pleasure swerve.
O from Captivity restore,
And by thy powerfull grace preserve!