Psalm 120 (Ad Dominum)

As to th' Eternall often in anguishes
Erst have I called, never unanswered,
Againe I call, againe I calling
Doubt not againe to receave an answer.

Lord ridd my soule from treasonous eloquence
Of filthy forgers craftily fraudulent:
And from the tongue where lodg'd resideth
Poison'd abuse, ruine of beleevers.

Thou that reposest vainly thy confidence
In wily wronging, say by thy forgery
What good to thee? what gaine redoundeth?
What benefitt from a tongue deceitfull?

Though like an arrow strongly delivered
It deeply pierce, though like to a juniper
It coales doe cast, which quickly fired,
Flame very hott, very hardly quenching.

Ah God! too long heere wander I banished,
Too long abiding barbarous injury:
With Kedar and with Mesech harbour'd,
How? in a tent, in a howselesse harbour.

Too long, alas, to long have I dwelled here
With friendly peaces furious enemies:
Who when to peace I seeke to call them,
Faster I find to the warre they arme them.