Psalm 58

YEe congregation, said yee right?
Yee Mortalls, are your Doomes vpright?
No; for you muse on works of Sinn:
Your hands with mischeevs filled are,
You from your Births vntoward were;
And, from the wombe have liers binn.

Your poyson, like the serpents, flowes;
Deaf-Adder-like, your eares you close,
Though powrfull Charmes are wisely sung.
Oh God! their mouthes of teeth disarme;
And, that their Fangs may do no harme,
Make tootheles (Lord) the Lion's young.

Like sudden Flouds, their furie slale;
When they would shoot; their arrowes, breake:
Yea make them quite consume away.
Like snailes, consume them from the earth;
Or els, like some vntimely birth,
Destroy, them, er'e they see the day.

Before wee feel them, prick or burne,
Them, whirle-winde-like, Lord, overturne;
And sweep them hence, in wrath alive.
Which Vengance. when the Righteous vewe,
(And vewing Sinn receive her due)
They, joyfull thancks, to thee shall give.

Yea, they shall trample on their bloud,
Who have bene Foes to doeng good;
And ev'rie man shall say, & see,
That Righteous men shall have their meed;
And, that there is a God, indeed,
By whome the world shall iudged be.