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 LXIX.

* 1.1LOrd, snatch me from the raging Floud; Now in deep Eddies almost drown'd: That struggle in the yielding mud, There, where no bottom can be found: The rising waves my head surround, And with their terrors chill my Bloud.

Tir'd with complaining; hoarse, and sore; Sight fails my long-expecting Eyes: My Hairs are not in number more Than my uninjur'd Enemies. The great in wrong against me rise; I, what I never took, restore.

My God, Thou know'st my Innocence: Let not the faithful blush for me, Traduc'd by slanderous Impudence; Nor O! 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 general scorn; Deserted by my near Allies; By children of my Mother born: Through zeal unto thy Honour worn, While thy reproach upon me lies.

I fasted, wept, in Sack-cloth mourn'd; My anguish in my looks 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.

Yet shall my Prayers and Sighs ascend* 1.2 Even in an acceptable hour. Thy Mercy, gracious Lord, extend; And save by thy Almighty Power. Let not the swallowing mud devour: Preserve from such a shameful end.

Deliver from th' insulting Foe; My strugling Feet from sinking keep: Let not the Billows overflow, Nor Whirl-pits suck into their Deep. O pity Thou the Eyes that weep: And thy Transcendent Mercy show.

Hear, and redeem without delay; Nor in my trouble hide thy Face: Lest I become a wretched prey To such as have my Soul in chase. My shame, indignities, disgrace And all their crimes before Thee lay.

Reproach my bleeding heart hath pierc'd: Was ever Sorrow half so great! Compassion hath her Eyes averst; My Grief no comfort could intreat: They gave me bitter Gall to eat; And Vinegar to quench my Thirst.

O be their board a snare to those! Prosperity it self a Bait! Their Eyes in clouds of darkness close; And let them fall by their own weight: Pour on them thy Eternal hate; With vengeance multiply their woes.

* 1.3In Ruins let their Houses lie; None in their silent Tents be found; That would, whom thou hast smit, destroy; And wounded Souls with slander wound. Let their Iniquities abound, Nor ever in thy Mercy joy.

Their names out of thy Volume blot; Nor with the Just inthrone their Daies. Though poor; to misery begot; Yet Thou shalt my dejection raise: Then will I celebrate thy Praise: My thankful Heart no time shall spot.

This will Jehovah more delight, Than Bulls prepar'd for Sacrifice: Their guilded Horns with Garlands dight. This shall the Meek with pleased Eyes Behold, and centuple their joys: Their Day shall never set in Night.

For God the Poor regards, and those, Who for his sake affliction try. Round Earth, deep Seas, what Seas inclose; You Orbs, that move so orderly; Our great Jehovah magnify, Who crowns his Saints with sweet Repose.

For God his Sion shall immure, And Iudah's Cities build again: Where they shall ever live secure; A fair inheritance obtain: There shall their blessed Seed remain; And safely that rich Soil manure.

Notes

• * 1.1

  As the 22.
• * 1.2

  Part 2.
• * 1.3

  Part 3.