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 20, 2024.
Pages
PSALM XLV.
WIth heat divine inspir'd, I singA Panegyrick to the King:High Raptures in a numerous stileI with a ready Pen compile.Much fairer than our Humane Race;Whose lips like Fountains flow with Grace:For this the Lord thy Soul shall blessWith everlasting Happiness.Gird, O most Mighty, on thy ThighThy Sword of Awe and Majestie:In triumph, arm'd with Truth, ride on;By Clemency and Justice drawn.
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No mortal vigour shall withstandThe fury of thy dreadful Hand.Thy piercing Arrows in the KingsOpposers hearts shall dye their wings.Thy Throne no wast of Time decays;Thy Scepter sacred Justice sways.Thou Virtue lov'st; but hast abhorr'dDeformed Vice: for this, the LordHath thee alone preferr'd, and shedThe Oyl of Joy upon thy head.Thy Garments, which in Grace excell,Of Aloes, Myrrh, and Cassia smell;Brought from the Ivory Palaces:Which more than other Odors please.Kings Daughters to augment thy State,Among thy noble Damfels wait.The Queen inthron'd on thy right hand,Adorn'd with Ophyr's golden Sand.
Hark Daughter, and by me be taught;Thy Countrey banish from thy thought,Thy House and Family forget,His Joy upon thy Beauty set.He is thy Lord; O bow before,And him eternally adore!The Daughters of Sea-circled TyreShall bring their Purple, and desire(Even they whom Wealth and Honour grace)To see the sweetness of thy Face.Her Mind all Beauties doth infold;Her fair limbs clad in purfled Gold,She shall unto the King be brought,In Robes with Phrygian Needle wrought:While Virgins on her Train attend,Whose Faith and Friendship know no end:
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Whom they with joy shall lead along;Eterniz'd in a Nuptial Song:And with renew'd Applauses bringUnto the Palace of the King.Thou in thy Royal Fathers place,Of Sons shalt see a numerous Race;Who over all the Earth shall sway,While the cleer Sun directs the Day.My Song shall celebrate thy Name,And to the World divulge thy Fame.