Psalm 6

Lord, thy deserved Wrath asswage;
Nor punish in thy burniug Ire;
Let Mercie mitigate thy Rage,
Before my fainting life expire.
O heale! my bones with anguish ake;
My pensive heart with sorrow worne.
How long wilt thou my soule forsake!
O pitie, and at length returne!
O let thy Mercies comfort me,
And thy afflicted Servant save!
Who will in death remember thee?
Or praise thee in the silent Grave?
Vext by insulting enemies,
My groanes disturbe the peacefull Night;
My bed washt with my streaming eyes:
Through griefe growne old, and dim of sight.
All you of wicked life depart;
The Lord my God hath heard my cry:
He will recure my wounded heart,
And turne my teares to tides of joy.
Who hate me, let dishonour wound,
Let feare their guiltie soules affright;
With shame their haughtie lookes confound,
And let them vanish from my sight.