Classic Poem

Oh Lord my God, with praise I wil persever,
Thy blessed name in song I wil record:
For the great wonders thou hast done O lord,
Thy trueth and counsels have bene certain ever.

A mightie citie thou makest ruinat.
The strongest townes thou bringest to decay:
A place where strangers usually do stay,
And shall not be reduc'd to former state.

The proudest people therefore stoupe to thee,
The strongest cities have thee still in feare:
Thou strengthnest the poore man in dispaire:
And helpest the needie in necessitie.

Thou art a sure refuge against a shower,
A shadow which doth from the heat defend:
The raging blasts the mighty forth doth send,
Is like a storme which shakes the stateliest tower.

Thou shalt abate the forraine strangers pride,
Like as the heat doth drie the moistest place,
The glorie of the proud thou shalt deface,
Like as the cloudes the sunny beames doo hide.

The Lord of hostes shal in this mount provide,
And to his people here shal make a feast,
Of fatted things and dainties of the best,
Of Marrow and wines finely purified.

And in this Mountaine by his mightie hand,
That same dark cloud the Lord wil cleane destroy,
Even with the vaile which doth his folke annoy.
And death no more before his face shall stand.

The Lord will wipe out of his chosens eies,
The teares which doo their faces so distaine:
And their rebuke shal now no more remaine,
Thus saith the Lord, these be his promises.

And men shal say (then) loe, this same is he,
This is our God, on whom we did attend,
This is the Lord that will us stil defend,
We will be glad and joyfull (Lord) in thee.

Thy hand (oh Lord) here in this mount shall rest,
And cursed Moab shall by thee be beaten,
As in thy judgment thou of long doost threaten,
As in Mamena straw of men is thresht.

And over them the Lord his hand shal holde,
As he that swimmeth, stretcheth him at length,
And by his power and by his mighty strength,
The proud and stout by him shal be controlde.

Thy highest walles and towers of all thy trust,
He shall bring downe and lay them all full lowe,
Unto the ground his hand shall make them bow,
And lay thy pride and glorie in the dust.