Psalm 144

The Lord, my Strength, be onely prais'd;
The Lord, who hath my courage rais'd:
In doubtfull Battell given me might,
And skill how to direct, and fight.
My Fautor, Fortresse, high-built Tower;
My Rocke, Redeemer, Shield and Power;
My onely Confidence; who still
Subjects my People to my will.
Lord, what is Man, or his fraile Race,
That thou should'st such a vapour grace!
Man nothing is but vanitie;
A shadow swiftly gliding by.
Great God, stoope from the bending Skies,
The Mountaines touch, and Clouds shall rise;
From thence thy winged Lightning throw;
Rout and confound the flying Foe;
Stretch downe thy hand, which onely saves,
And snatch me from the furious Waves.
Free from rebellious Enemies,
Inur'd to perjuries, and lies:
Their Hands defil'd with fraud and wrong.
Then will I in a new-made Song,
Unto the softly-warbling string,
Of thy Illustrious Praises sing.
Thou Kings preserv'st; hast me preserv'd;
Even David, who thy Will observ'd;
Free from rebellious Enemies,
Inur'd to perjuries and lies:
Foule deeds their violent hands defile;
Hands prone to treacherie and guile:
That in their Youth our Sonnes may grow
Like Lawrell Groves; our Daughters show
Like polish't pillars deck't with Gold;
Which high and Royall roofes uphold:
Our Magazines abound with Graine,
Provision of all sorts containe:
Increasing Flockes our Pastures fill,
And wel-fed Steeres the Fallowes till;
That no incursions Peace affright;
No Armies joyne in dreadfull fight;
No daring Foe our Walls invest,
Nor fearefull shriekes disturbe our rest.
Blest People! who in this estate
Injoy your selves without debate:
And happie, ô thrice happy they,
Who for their God, the Lord obey!