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.
About this Item
Title
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.
Author
Sandys, George, 1578-1644.
Publication
London :: Printed by W. Godbid for A. Roper,
1676.
Rights/Permissions
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Subject terms
Bible. -- O.T. -- Psalms -- Paraphrases, English.
Tune-books.
Cite this Item
"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." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A27888.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 17, 2024.
Pages
descriptionPage 99
PSALM LVII.
O Thou, from whom all Mercy springs,Compassionate my Sufferings;And pity me,That trust in Thee!O shelter with thy shady Wings,Until these storms of WoeClear-up, or over-blow!
Thee I invoke, O thou Most High,Thou All-performer! from the SkieThy Angels send;Let them defendMy Soul from him that would destroy:O send thy Mercy down;With Truth thy Promise crown!
For Salvage Lions girt me round,And they whose Malice knows no bound;Their cruel WordsMore sharp than Swords;Their Teeth like Spears and Arrows wound.To Heav'n thy Glory raise;Let Earth resound thy Praise.
They subtil snares prepared have,And bow'd my Souleven to the Grave:With wicked witHave digg'd a pit,From which themselves they could not save▪But justly fell therein,Intrapt by their own Sin.
descriptionPage 100
My ravish'd Heart flames with desire;I to the Musick of my Lyre,Eternal King,Thy Praise will sing.Awake my Glory! Zeal inspire!Awake my Harp and Lute,Nor in his Praise be mute!
To thee, before the Morning rise,My Lips their Calves shall sacrifice:Thy Mercy farThe highest Star,Thy Truth transcends the lofty Skies.To Heaven thy Glory raise;Let Earth resound thy Praise.