Psalm 130

Ovt of the horrour of the Deepe,
Where feare and sorrow never sleepe,
To thee my cries
In sighes arise:
Lord from despaire thy servant keepe:
O lend a gracious eare,
And my petitions heare.

For if thou should'st our sinnes observe:
And punish us, as we deserve:
Not one of all
But then must fall;
Since all from their obedience swerve:
Yet art not thou severe,
That we thy Name might feare.

Thy mercies our mis-deeds transcend:
My hopes upon thy Truth depend:
Disconsolate
On thee I waite;
As weary Centinels attend
The chearefull Morns uprise
With long-expecting eyes.

O you that are of Jacobs Race,
In him your Hopes, and Comforts place;
His praises sing;
The living Spring
Of Mercy and redundant Grace:
For he will Israel
Redeeme from Sin and Hell.