Psalm 31

BEcause, I do on thee depend,
(That sham'd I may not be)
Lord, in thy Iustice me defend,
And, quickly hear thou me.
Be still my rock, my walled-bowre;
And, me vouchsafe to save:
For, thou art my defensive towre,
And, all the strength I have.

Be pleas'd (for thy namesake) to come
And be my hopeful stay;
Direct thou me, & pluck me from
Those netts my foes do lay.
Thou art my strength, & vnto thee
My spirit I commit:
For, thou Lord God of Truth, art he
Who hast redeemed it.

I, them abhorr who lies approve;
But, Lord, I trust in thee:
And of thy grace, & in thy love,
My whole reioicings be.
For, me thou didst from cares discharge;
Thou knew'st my soul in woe:
My fettred feet thou didst enlarge,
And keptst me from my foe.

Have mercie, Lord, for I am vext;
Mine eies with greef decay:
In soul & flesh, I am perplext;
Greef, wasts my life away.
My yeares, with sigheng, shortned are;
My sight, to faile beginns:
My bones consume, my strength doth wear;
And, al is for my sinns.

My scornefull foes do me vpraid;
My neighbours, more then they:
My freinds, to see me are afrayd,
And, far they fly away.
As one long dead, (vnthought vpon)
Ev'n pot-sherd like, I fare.
I flander'd am of many a one,
And, round me, terrors are.

Yet (when to take my life fro me
They plotts against me layd)
Relieng still, oh Lord, on thee.
Thou art my God, I sayd,
Thou know'st the times, when me to take
From my persueng soes:
Therfor, to me (for mercie sake)
Thy cheerfull face disclose.

Lord, let me not be made asham'd,
Because, thy help I crave:
But, let the wicked be defam'd,
And, silenc'd in the grave.
Their lieng lips, for ever close,
Who murmur in despight,
Disdainfull words, in scorne of those,
Whose courses are vpright.

Oh! what great favours wilt thou shew,
To such as honor thee.
And bring to passe, in publike vewe,
For them that faithfull be?
Thy secret presence shal prevent
The Tyrants hautie wrongs;
And, they shall in thy privie-tent
Avoyd the strife of tongues.

Praise God; for, when I rash lie thought,
That I quite lost had binn;
Me, to a warlike Towne he brought,
And, honord me therein.
My suites, & cries, he likewise heard:
Yee saints of his, therfore,
The Lord your God, with good regard,
Love, honor, & adore.

The faithfull, he doth keep from harme,
And their proud foes contemn.
Be bolde: & he your harts will arme
Who put your trust in him.