Psalm 71

I To thy Wing for refuge flie;
Protect me from foule Infamy;
Lord, in thy Justice save.
Deliver from their treacherous Snares:
O favourably heare my Prayers;
Snatch from the yawning Grave.

Be thou my Fortresse of Defence;
There let me fix my Residence.
O Thou, my Rocke! my Tower!
Who hast thy Angels given in charge,
That they thy Seruants should inlarge
From circumventing Power.

Deliver from their cruell might,
Whose wicked hands in blood delight:
Lest I their prey become.
Thou art my hope; even from my Youth
Have I reli'd upon thy Truth;
By Thee kept in the wombe:

From thence extracted by thy Care.
Though, as a Prodigie they stare
On me with wondring eyes;
Yet thee, my strength, my Song shall praise,
And to the Starres thy glory raise,
While Sunnes shall set and rise.

O cast not off, when full of dayes;
Forsake not, when my Strength decayes:
Watcht by conspiring Foes.
God hath abandon'd him, say they;
Now let us make his life our prey:
Who shall our power oppose?

My God close to thy servant stand,
And helpe him with a speedy hand:
Those in their pride confound,
Who persecute my wretched Soule;
Let Death their impious rage controule,
And with dishonour wound.

But I will ever hope, and raise
My Voice to multiply thy Praise,
Thy Righteousnesse display,
Thy manifold Deliveries:
Which ô! no number can comprise;
Thus spend the harmelesse Day.

I in thy Strength, though old and weake,
Will walke, and of thy Justice speake;
Of thine, even thine alone.
Thou hast inform'd me from my Youth:
I, to this houre, with single Truth,
Thy wondrous workes have showne.

Now in the Winter of my yeares;
When Time hath snow'd upon my haires,
Abandon not, ô Lord;
Till I unto this Age proclame
Thy Mightie Power; in Songs the same
Unto the next record.

Thy Counsels depth our search exceeds:
How admirable are thy Deeds!
O who is like to Thee!
Thou hast afflictions on me laine;
Yet shalt thou quicken me againe,
And from Earths entrailes free.

Still thou my glorie wilt increase,
And comfort with the joyes of Peace.
I, in a living verse,
Unto my warbling Harpe will sing
Thy praises, O eternall King;
Thy noble Acts rehearse.

Unto my Voice, and Instrument
Shall my exalted Soule consent;
By Thee redeem'd from Death:
Thy Justice every Day proclaime;
That now hast cloth'd my Foes with Shame,
Dispersed by thy breath.