Psalm 103 (Benedic, anima)

My soule, my hart,
And every inward part,
Praise high Jehova, praise his holy name:
My hart, my soule,
Jehovas name extoll:
What gratious he
Doth, and hath done for thee,
Be quick to mind, to utter be not lame.

For his free grace
Doth all thy sinnes deface,
He cures thy sicknesse, healeth all thy harme.
From greedy grave
That gapes thy life to have,
He setts thee free:
And kindly makes on thee
All his compassions, all his mercies swarme.

He doth thee still
With flowing plenty fill:
He eagle-like doth oft thy age renew,
The Lord his right
Unto the wronged wight
Doth ever yield:
And never cease to shield
With justice them, whom guile and fraude pursue.

His way and trade
He knowne to Moses made,
His wonders to the sonnes of Israeli,
The Lord, I meane,
Jehova; who doth leane
With mildest will
To ruth and mercy still;
As slow to wrath, as swift to doing well.

When he doth chide
He doth not chiding bide:
His anger is not in his treasures laide.
He doth not serve
Our synnes, as sinnes deserve:
Nor recompence
Unto us each offence
With due revenge in equall ballance weighd.

For looke how farre
The sphere of farthest starre
Drownes that proportion earthly center beares:
Soe much, and more,
His never empty store
Of grace and love
Beyond his synnes doth prove,
Who ever hym with due devotion feares.

Nay, looke how farre
From east removed are
The westerne lodgings of the weary sunne:
Soe farre, more farre,
From us removed are,
By that greate love
Our faultes from him doe prove,
What ever faultes and follies we have done.

And looke how much
The neerly touching touch
The father feeles towards his sonne most deare.
Affects his hart,
At ev'ry froward part
Plaid by his child:
Soe mercifull, soe mild,
Is he to them that beare him awfull feare.

Our potter he
Knowes how his vessells we
In earthy matter lodg'd this fickle forme:
Fickle as glasse
As flowres, that fading passe,
And vanish soe:
No, not their place we know,
Blasted to death with breath of blustring storme.

Such is our state;
But farre in other rate,
Gods endlesse justice and his mercy stand,
Both on the good,
And their religious brood;
Who uncontrol'd
Sure league with him doe hold,
And doe his lawes not only understand.

Jehova greate
Sits thron'd in starry seate:
His kingdome doth all kingdoms comprehend.
You angells strong,
That unto him belong,
Whose deedes accord
With his commanding word,
Praises and thanks upon Jehova spend.

Spirits of might,
You that his battaills fight,
You ministers that willing work his will:
All things that he
Hath wrought, where soe they be,
His praise extoll:
Thou with the rest my soule,
Praises and thanks spend on Jehovas skill.