Psalm 52

O Thou in Mischiefe great,
Why boasts thou in deceit?
Gods greater Mercy will
Protect his Servants still.
Thy Tongue with sraud abounds,
And like a Rasor wounds;
All evill dost affect;
All that is good neglect.
Lies are thy low delight;
To Vertue opposite:
Thy words with treachery
The innocent destroy.
God shall repay thy hate,
Thy Stuctures ruinate;
And make thee curse thy birth:
Then teare thee from the Earth.
The Just thy fall shall see,
Feare Him, and laugh at thee.
Lo he, who God forsooke,
Nor for his refuge tooke;
Selfe-strengthning with excesse
Of Wealth, and Wickednesse.
But I shall planted be,
Like a greene Olive-tree,
In Gods owne House; and will
Trust in His Mercies still.
For this, I evermore
Shall thy great Name adore:
Thy Promises expect;
The joy of thy Elect.