A paraphrase upon the Psalms of David by George Sandys ; set to new tunes for private devotion and a thorough-base for voice or instrument by Henry Lawes ; and in this edition carefully revised and corrected from many errors which passed in former impressions by John Playford.

PSALM XXXVIII.

NOT in thy wrath against me rise; Nor in thy fury, Lord, chastise: Thy Arrows wound, Nail to the Ground, Thy hand upon me lies.

No Limb from pain and anguish free; Because I have incensed thee: Nor rest can take, My bones so ake; Such sin abounds in me.

Like Billows they my head transcend; Beneath their heavy load I bend: My Ulcers swell, Corrupt, and smell; Of Folly the sad end.

Perplext in mind I pine away, And mourning waste the tedious day; My Flesh no more Then all one Sore; All parts at once decay.

Much broken; all my strength o're-thrown; Through anguish of my Soul I groan. Lord, thou dost see My thoughts and me▪ My Sighs to thee are known.

My sad Heart pants, my nerves relent, My Sight grows dim; and to augment My miseries, All my Allies And Friends themselves absent.

Who seek my life, their Snares extend; Their wicked thoughts on Mischief bend: Calumniate, And lye in wait To bring me to my end.

But I as deaf to them appear, As mute, as if I tongueless were: My passion rul'd, Like one that could At all not speak nor hear.

Because my hopes on thee relye: My God, I said, O hear my cry; Lest they should boast, Who hate me most, And in my ruin joy.

For O! I droop, with struggling spent: My thoughts are on my sorrows bent. My sins excess I will confess; In show'rs of tears repent.

My foes are full of strength and pride; Who causeless hate, are multiply'd: Who good with ill Repay; would kill, Because I just abide.

Depart not, Lord; O pitty take! Nor me in my extreames forsake! Salvation Is thine alone; Hast to my succour make.

Notes

• As the 4.
• Part 2.