Psalm 75 (Confitebimur tibi)

Thee, God, O thee, wee sing, we celebrate:
Thy actes with wonder who but doth relate?
So kindly nigh thy name our need attendeth.
Sure I, when once the chardge I undergo
Of this assembly, will not faile to show
My judgments such, as justest rule commendeth.

The people loose, the land I shaken find:
This will I firmly prop, that straitly bind;
And then denounce my uncontrolled pleasure:
Bragg not you braggardes, and your saucy home
Lift not lewd mates: no more with heav'ns high scorne
Daunce on in wordes your old repyning measure.

Where sun first showes, or last enshades his light,
Divides the day, or pricks the midst of night,
Seeke not the fountayne whence preferment springeth.
Gods only fixed course that all doth sway,
Lymits dishonors night, and honors day,
The king his crowne, the slave his fetters bringeth.

A troubled cupp is in Jehovas hand,
Where wine and wyny lees compounded stand,
Which franckly filld, as freely he bestoweth:
Yet for their draught ungodly men doth give,
Gives all (not one except) that lewdly lyve,
Only what from the dreggs by wringing floweth.

And I secure shall spend my happie tymes
In my (though lowly) never-dying rymes,
Singing with praise the God that Jacob loveth.
My princely care shall crop ill-doers low,
In glory plant, and make with glory grow
Who right approves, and doth what right approveth.