Psalm 28

O LORD my rock, I cry to thee,
To me ô be not dumbe:
Lest if to me thou silent be,
I like dead men become.
My supplications audible
Hear, when I call to thee:
When tow'rd thy holy Oracle
My hands up-lifted be.
With wicked doers devoid of grace,
O draw me not away:
Which speak their neighbours fair to face,
But secretly betray.
Repay their deeds, and handy-works,
Indeavours, and desarts:
With all their wickedness that lurks
In their malicious hearts.
Since they Gods works did not regard,
Nor what his hands fulfill'd,
Destruction sure is their reward,
God shall them never build.
Blessed be God, because he heard
My supplications voice:
My hearts repose, and help conferr'd
Which make it much rejoyce.
The LORD'S my strength, my shield, my tow'r,
I'l sing his praise alone:
The LORD'S their strength, & Saviour
Of his anointed one.
Thine heritage LORD bless and keep,
So that it perish never,
Nor onely keep, but feed thy sheep,
And lift them up for ever.