Psalm 141

To Thee I cry; Lord, heare my cries;
O come with speed unto my aid:
Let my sad Prayres before Thee rise,
Like Incense on the Altar laid;
Or as when I, with hands displaid,
Present my Evening Sacrifice.

Before my mouth a Guardian set;
My Lips with barres of Silence close.
O let me not thy Lawes forget;
And wickedly combine with those,
Who Thee, and all that's good, oppose;
Nor of their deadly Dainties eat.

But let the Just wound and reprove;
Such stripes and checks, an argument
Of their sincere and prudent love;
Like Odours of a fragrant Sent,
Pour'd on my head, no breaches rent.
My prayres shall for their safety move.

Mongst Rocks their Chiefes in ambush lie:
Yet have my suff'rings understood.
Our severed bones are scattered by
The mouthes of graves, like clefts of Wood.
Lord, save from those, that hunt for bloud:
On Thee with faith I cast mine eye.

O from their Machinations free,
That would my guiltlesse Soule betray;
From those who in my wrongs agree,
And for my life their engines lay.
May they by their owne craft decay;
But let me thy Salvation see.