Psalm 56 (Miserere mei, Deus)

Fountaine of pitty now with pitty flow:
These monsters on me daily gaping goe,
Dailie me devoure these spies,
Swarmes of foes against me rise,
O God that art more high than I am lowe.

Still when I feare yet will I trust in thee,
Thy word, O God, my boast shall ever bee:
God shall be my hopefull stay,
Feare shall not that hope dismay,
For what can feeble flesh doe unto me?

I as I can, think, speake, and doe the best;
They to the worst my thoughts, wordes, doings wrest:
All their hartes with one consent
Are to worke my ruine bent,
From plotting which, they give their heads no rest.

To that intent they secret meetings make,
They presse me neere, my soule in snare to take,
Thinking sleight shall keepe them safe,
But thou, Lord, in wrathful chafe
Their league soe surely linckt in sunder shake.

Thou didst, O Lord, with carefull counting looke
On ev'ry journey I poore exile tooke;
Ev'ry teare from my sad eyes
Saved in thy bottle lyes,
These matters are all entred in thy booke.

Then when soever my distressed sprite
Crying to thee brings these unto thy sight,
What remayneth for my foes?
Blames, and shames, and overthrowes,
For God him self I know for me will fight.

Gods never-falsed word my boast shall be,
My boast shall be his word to sett me free:
God shall be my hopefull stay,
Feare shall not that hope dismay,
For what can mortall men doe unto me?

For this to thee how deeply stand I bound,
Lord that my soule dost save, my foes confound!
Ah, I can no paiment make,
But if thou for payment take
The vowes I pay, thy praises I resound.

Thy praises who from death hast set me free,
Whether my feete did headlong carry me:
Making me of thy free grace
There agayne to take my place,
Where light of life with living men I see.