[ 1] SAve me, O God, or else I'm drown'd;
[ 2] Plung'd in deep mire, I find no ground:
Into deep Waters I am led,
Whose swelling waves o'erflow my head.
The Psalms of David in meter fitted to the tunes used in parish-churches / by John Patrick ...
About this Item
- Title
- The Psalms of David in meter fitted to the tunes used in parish-churches / by John Patrick ...
- Author
- Patrick, John, 1632-1695.
- Publication
- London :: Printed for A. and J. Churchill ... and L. Meredith ...,
- 1694.
- Rights/Permissions
-
This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. Searching, reading, printing, or downloading EEBO-TCP texts is reserved for the authorized users of these project partner institutions. Permission must be granted for subsequent distribution, in print or electronically, of this text, in whole or in part. Please contact project staff at eebotcp-info@umich.edu for further information or permissions.
- Subject terms
- Bible. -- O.T. -- Psalms -- Paraphrases, English.
- Psalters.
- Cite this Item
-
"The Psalms of David in meter fitted to the tunes used in parish-churches / by John Patrick ..." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A27944.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 8, 2024.
Pages
Page 153
[ 3] So long for help to thee I cry,
I scarce can speak, my throat's so dry:
Mine Eyes, with looking long in vain,
I scarce can lift to Heav'n for pain.
[ 4] My Foes are numberless and strong,
Who' unjustly to destroy me long:
Tho', of all quarrels to be rid,
I've paid for wrongs I never did.
[ 5] God knows, who all my faults do's spy,
I never did them Injury.
[ 6] Let none trust less in God, nor shun
Well doing, seeing me undone.
[ 7] For 'tis for thy sake I have born
Reproach, and suffer'd so much scorn:
[ 8] Deserted by Familiars been,
Not own'd by those of nearest kin.
[ 9] Zeal for the Honour of thy Name
And House, consumes me like a Flame:
All the reproaches thrown at thee,
I felt as if they'd aim'd at me.
[ 10] If fasting I bewail their spite,
They call me a leud Hypocrite:
[ 11] If I wear Sackcloth when I'm sad,
I'm look'd on as a Fool or Mad.
When the grave Judges do me wrong,
[ 12] No wonder I'm the Drunkard's Song
[ 13] I'll onely pray, that this may be
Thy time, O Lord, to favour me.