Psalm 32

A Blest estate, that man is in
Whose crimes the Lord forgives, & hides!
Ev'n he, to whome God laies no sinn,
And in whose hart no fraud abides.
Till I, my faults, did open lay,
My bones with paine were tired out:
Thy hand opprest me night and day,
And, I became like Summers drought.

My Trespas, I reveald therfore:
I shewd my secret faults to thee;
And vowd to hide my sinns no more:
So, thou, their guilt forgavest me.
For this: the Iust, on thee shall call,
At seasons when thou maist be found:
And he shall have no harme at all,
Though mighty Flouds enclose him round.

Thou art, oh Lord, my hiding-place,
Wherein; (when peril greatest growes)
From dangers, thou shalt me release,
And, me with songs of health enclose. (Selah.)
Thus, thou dost also seem to say:
I will instruct thee with mine eye,
And, so inform thee in the way;
That thou shalt never walk awrie.

Then, be not like the Horse or Mule,
That void of vnderstanding be;
Which thou with Bitt, & Raines, must rule,
Lest, els, they fling, or fall on thee.
The Sinners plagues grow more & more;
But, they finde grace, who trust in God.
Let just, & righteous men therfore,
With Shouts, proclaime theyr joye, abrode.