Psalm 10

THy face, oh Lord, why dost thou hide,
And stand aloofe, so farr?
Lo, Sinners, meerly out of pride,
The Spoile of poremen are.
Insnare them, by their owne devise,
For, of their Lust they boast
And praise those Freindes to Avarice,
Whome God abborreth most.

Their scornefull eyes regard not thee,
Their hartes do thee denay.
Too high for them thy judgments be;
Stil greeuous is their way.
They snuff, & sleight their greatest Foes,
And (come what mischeeves will)
Within their hartes, they do suppose,
That they shal prosper still.

Their mouthes, with cursings overflowe,
Their tongues, lie. swear, & vaunt:
The pore to catch & overthrowe,
Obscured paths they haunt.
They watch, unseene, for simple-men,
To ceaze them vn-aware.
They lurck like Lions in their denn,
And slielie them insnare.

To catch the pore, by lowlie shewes
Their strength, doth help them on,
They think in hart. that God nor vewes,
Nor careth what is done.
But, rise oh Lord, thy powre to showe;
Leaue not the pore forgot.
For, why should Sinners sleight thee soe
And think, thou mind'st them not?

Thou see'st, yea see'st their wickednes,
That punishd it may be:
And loe, the pore & Fatherles,
Commit their Cause to thee.
Lord God (their helper) break the strength
Of ev'ry wicked-one;
Serch out their sinnes, & thou (at length)
Shalt cause them to have none,

Our ever-lasting king thou art:
Thou, from the Realme likewise,
Hast forc'd the Gentiles to depart,
And heard the poremans cries.
Their harts thou shalt establish to,
And hear & judge, the pore;
That, earth-bred man, the Orphanes foe,
May them oppresse no more.

Another of the same.
LOrd, why standest thou so farr?
Why at need, am I forsaken?
Poremen, wrondg'd by Tirants are;
Let them in those guiles, be taken,
Which by them contrived were.

For, in boast, the Sinner sayes;
That, his longings he possesseth:
He, the Covetous doth praise,
(And their practises he blesseth)
Though the Lord abhors their waies.

Proud & loftie lookes, hath he,
God, nor seeking, nor beleeving:
All his Courses greevous be;
And thy judgments (past conceivinge)
Are too high for him to see.

With contempt he sleights his foes,
Fearing neither falls nor sliding:
From his mouth much cursing flowes,
Vnderneath his tongue, still hiding,
Mischeef, sinn, & guilefull showes.

In blinde paths, he lurks & pries,
Harmles men to spoile & murther:
At the pore he darts his eyes,
And (unseene) his drifts to further,
Like the denned lion, lies.

He doth watch the pore to spoile,
Whome he snares & ouerthroweth:
For, to take him in his toyle,
He with humble crowchings boweth,
Ceazing him by force, the while.

Then, in hart, thus muzeth he;
God shall sleightly passe it over;
Hide his face, & never see:
But, rise Lord, thy strength discover,
That the meek aven'gd may be.

Let not Sinners mock thee soe,
As if thou didst nought regard it:
Lo: thou see'st, yea see'st them do
Spightfull wrong; &, to reward it,
Thou shalt set thy hand there-to.

Thou, art poremens hopefull stay,
Orphanes helper, in oppression:
Break the Sinners armes I pray,
Serch thou after his transgression,
And, then, purg it all away,

God who raignes for evermore,
From his land, the Gentiles driveth;
Hears, & chears, & helps the pore;
And, the Orphane so reviveth,
That, he feares not, as before.