Psalm 90 (Domine, refugium)

Thou our refuge, thou our dwelling,
O Lord, hast byn from time to time:
Long ere Mountaines proudly swelling
Above the lowly dales did clime:
Long ere the earth embowl'd by thee
Bare the forme it now doth beare:
Yea, thou art God for ever, free
From all touch of age and yeare.

O but man by thee created,
As he at first of earth arose,
When thy word his end hath dated.
In equall state to earth he goes.
Thou saist, and saying, makst it soe:
Be noe more, O Adams heyre;
From whence ye came, dispatch to goe,
Dust againe, as dust ye were.

Graunt a thousand yeares be spared
To mortall men of life and light:
What is that to thee compared?
One day, one quarter of a night.
When death upon them storm-like falls,
Like unto a dreame they grow:
Which goes and comes as fancy calls,
Nought in substance, all in show.

As the hearb that early groweth,
Which leaved greene, and flowred faire,
Ev'ning change with ruine moweth,
And laies to rost in withering aire:
Soe in thy wrath we fade away,
With thy fury overthrowne:
When thou in sight our faultes dost lay,
Looking on our synns unknown.

Therefore in thy angry fuming,
Our life of daies his measure spends:
All our yeares in death consuming,
Right like a sound that sounded ends.
Our daies of life make seaventy yeares,
Eighty, if one stronger be:
Whose cropp is laboures, dolors, feares,
Then away in post we flee.

Yet who notes thy angry power,
As he should feare soe fearing thee?
Make us count each vitall hour,
Make thou us wise, we wise shall be.
Turne, Lord: shall these things thus goe still?
Lett thy servantes peace obtaine:
Us with thy joyfull bounty fill,
Endlesse joyes in us shall raigne.

(Glad us now as erst we greeved:
Send yeares of good, for yeares of ill:
When thy hand hath us releeved,
Show us and ours thy glory still.
Both them and us, not one exempt,
With thy beauty beautify:
Supply with aid what we attempt,
Our attempts with aid supply.