Classic Poem

Psal. 6.

As the 50. Psalme;

The mighty God, &c.

Let mee not Lord
be in thy wrath reproued:
Oh! scourge mee not
when thy fierce rage is mooued.
Pity mee, Lord,
that do with languor pine:
Heale mee whose bones
with paine dissolued bin;
Whose weary soule
is vexed aboue measure.
Oh Lord how long
shall I 'bide thy displeasure!

Turne thee O Lord,
rescue my soule distrest;
And saue me, of thy grace.
Mongst those that rest,
In silent death
can none remember thee:
And in the graue
how shouldst thou praised be?
Weary with sighs,
all night I caus'd my bed
To swim: with teares
my couch I watered.
Deepe sorrow hath
consum'd my dimmed eyne,
Sunk in with griefe
at these leud foes of mine:
But now hence, hence,
vaine plotters of mine ill:
The Lord hath heard
my lamentations shrill;
God heard my suit
and still attends the same:
Blush now, my foes,
and fly with sudden shame.