Psalm CXLI

Lord, unto thee I cry,
O make thou hast to me;
Give ear unto my mournful voice
When I cry unto thee.

As incense let my pray'r
Be set before thine eyes;
And the up-lifting of my hands,
As evening sacrifice.

O Lord, a constant watch
Set thou my mouth before;
And of my lips, left they offend,
Do thou still keep the door.

To any evil thing
Let not my heart incline,
To joyn in sin with wicked men,
Or of their pleasures dine.

Let righteous men in love
Smite me, and me reprove;
This shall not break my head, but as
A precious Oyl shall prove.
In their distress I'le pray,

When in the stony street
Their Judges are cast down, they'll hear,
My words will then be sweet.

Our bones at the grave's mouth
Are cast and scatter'd round;
As wood which men do cut and cleave,
Lies scattered on the ground.

But, Lord my God, mine eyes
Still look up unto thee;
In thee is all my trust; Let not
My soul forsaken be.

Keep thou me from the snare
Which they have laid for me;
And the entrapping grins of men,
That wicked workers be.

Let men of ill designs
Fall into their own trap,
Whilst from all their malicious plots
Thy flock and I escape.