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 LXXI.

I To thy Wing for refuge flie; Protect me from foul Infamie; Lord, in thy Justice ••ave. Deliver from their treacherous Snares: O favourably hear my Prayers; Snatch from the yawning Grave.

Be thou my Fortress of Defence; There let me fix my Residence. O Thou, my Rock! my Tower! Who hast thy Angels given in charge, That they thy Servants should inlarge From circumventing Power.

Deliver from their cruel might, Whose wicked hands in blood delight: Lest I their pray become. Thou art my hope; even from my Youth Have I rely'd upon thy Truth; By Thee kept in the womb:

From thence extracted by thy Care. Though, as a Prodigy they stare On me with wondring eyes; Yet Thee, my strength, my Song shall praise, And to the Stars thy glory raise, While Suns shall set and rise.

O cast not off, when full of days; Forsake not, when my Strength decays: Watch'd by conspiring Foes. God hath abandon'd him, say they; Now let us make his life our prey: Who shall our power oppose?

My God, close to thy servant stand, And help him with a speedy hand: Those in their pride confound, Who persecute my wretched Soul; Let Death their impious rage controul, And with dishonour wound.

But I will ever hope, and raise My Voice to multiply thy Praise; Thy Righteousness display, Thy manifold Deliveries: Which O! no number can comprise; Thus spend the harmless Day.

I in thy Strength, though old and weak, Will walk, and of thy Justice speak; Of thine, even thine alone. Thou hast inform'd me from my Youth: I, to this hour, with single Truth, Thy wondrous works have shown.

Now in the Winter of my years; When Time hath snow'd upon my hairs, Abandon not, O Lord; Till I unto this Age proclame Thy Mighty Power; in Songs the same Unto the next record.

Thy Counsels depth our search exceeds: How admirable are thy Deeds! O who is like to Thee! Thou hast afflictions on me lain; Yet shalt thou quicken me again, And from Earths entrails free▪

Still thou my glory wilt increase, And comfort with the joys of Peace. I, in a living verse, Unto my warbling Harp will sing Thy praises, O eternal King; Thy noble Acts rehearse.

Unto my Voice, and Instrument Shall my exalted Soul consent; By Thee redeem'd from Death: Thy Justice every Day proclame: That now hast cloth'd my Foes with Shame, Dispersed by thy breath.

Notes

• As the 34.
• Part 2.
• Part 3.