The Fourth Penitential Psalm (Psalm 51)

Lik as the pilgryme that in a long way
Fayntyng for hete, provokyd by some wind,
In some fresh shaade lith downe at mydes off day.
So doth off David the weryd voyce and mynd,
Tak breth off syghes when he had song this lay;
Under such shaad as sorow hath assynd.
And as the ton still myndes his viage end,
So doth the tothr to mercy still pretend.

On sonour cordes his fingers he extendes
Without heryng or jugement off the sownd
Down from his lyes a streme of terys distendes
Without feling that trykill on the grownd;
As he that bledes in baigne, ryght so intendes
Th altryd sensis to that that thei ar bownd.
But syght and wepe he can non othr thing
And lok up still unto the hevins Kyng.

But who had bene without the Cavis mowth,
And herd the terys and syghs that he did strayne,
He wold have sworne there had, out of the sowth,
A lewk warme wynd, browght forth a smoky rayne.
But that so close the Cave was and unkowth,
That none but God was record off his payne,
Elles had the wynd blowne in all Israelles erys,
The woffull plaint, and of theire Kyng the terys.

Off wich some part when he up suppyd hade,
Lik as he whom his owne thowght affrays
He torns his look, hym semith that the shade
Of his offence agayne his force assays,
By violence, dispaire on hym to lade.
Stertyng lik hym whom sodeyne fere dismays
His voyce he strainis and from his hert out bringes
This song that I not wyther he crys or singes

Rew on me Lord for thy goodnes and grace,
That off thy nature art so bountefull,
Ffor that goodnes, that in the world doth brace

Repugnant natures, in quiet wonderfull ;
And for thy mercys nomber withowt end.
In hevin and yerth perceyvid so plentefull.

That over all they do them sellffes extend,
Ffor those marcys much more then man can synn.
Do way my synns that so thy grace offend !

Agayne wash me, but wash me well within,
And from my synn that thus makth me affrayd.
Make thou me clene as ay thy wont hath byn.

Ffor unto The no nombre can be layd
For to prescrybe remissions off offence.
In hertes retornd, as thow thy sellff hast sayd.

And I be know my ffawt my neclegence,
And in my syght my synn is flxid fast,
Theroff to have more perfett penitence.

To The alone, to The have I trespast,
Ffor none can mesure my fawte but thou alone.
For in thy syght I have not bene agast

For to offend, Juging thi syght as none,
So that my fawt were hid from syght of man;
Thy majestie so from my mynd was gone.

This know I and repent : pardon thow than,
Wherby thou shalt kepe still thy word stable.
Thy Justice pure and clene ; by cawse that whan

I pardond ame, then forthwith justly able,
Just, I ame jugd, by justice off thy grace ;
Ffor I my sellff, lo, thing most unstable,

Fformd in offence; conceyvid in like case :
Ame nowght but synn from my natyvite.
Be not this sayd for my excuse alase.

But off thy help to shew necessite,
Ffor lo thou loves the trowgh off inward hert
Wich yet doth lyve in my lidelite;

Tho I have fallen by fray he overthwart,
(Ffor willfull malice led me not the way
So much as hath the flesh drawn me apart)

Wherfore O Lord as thou hast done alway,
Tech me the hydden wisdome off thy lore,
Sins that my fayth doth not yet dekay.

And as the Juyz to hele the liepre sore,
With hysope clense, — clense me, and I ame clene ;
Thou shah me wash, and more then snow therfore

I shall be whight, — how foule my faut have bene.
Thow off my helth shah gladsome tydynges bryng,
When from above remission shall be sene.

Descend on yerth; then shall for joye up spryng
The bonis, that were afore consumd to dust.
Look not, O Lord, apon myn pffendyng,

But do a way my dedes that ar unjust.
Mak a clene hert in the myddes off my brest
With upryght spryte, purgid from all vile lust

I Ffrom thyn lyes cure cast me not in unrest,
Nor take from me thy spryte of holynesse,
Rendre to me Joye off thy help and rest ;

My will conferme with spryte off stedfastnesse ;
And by this shall thes goodly thinges ensue :
Sinners I shall in to thy ways adresse;

They shall retorne to the and thy grace sue.
My tong shall prayse thy Justification,
My mowth shall spred thy gloryus praysis true.

But off thy sellif O God, this operation
It must proced, by purging me from blood;
Among the Just that I may have relation.

And of thy lawdes for to let owt the flood
Thou must, O Lord, my lypps furst unlose;
Ffor if thou hadst estemid plesant good

The owtward dedes that outward men disclose,
I wold have offerd unto The sacrifice.
Butt thou delyghtes not in no such glose

Off owtward dede, as men dreme and devyse.
The sacrifice that the Lord lykyth most
Is spryt contryt ; low hert in humble wyse

Thou dost accept, O God for plesant host,
Make Syon, Lord, acordyng to thy will.
Inward Syon, the Syon of the ghost.

Off hertes Hierusalem ; strength the walles still ;
Then shalt thou take for good thes uttward dedes,
As sacryfice thy plesure to fullfill,

Off The alone thus all our good precedes.