Classic Poem

PSALM XLIII .

Judica me, Deus.

1.

Judg of all, judg me,
And protector bee
Of my cause, oppressed
Of most cruel sprites;
Saue me from bad wights
In false colours dressed.

2.

For, my God, Thy sight
Giveth me my might;
Why then hast Thou left me?
Why walk I in woes,
While prevayling foes
Haue of joyes bereft me?

3.

Send Thy truth and light,
Let them guide me right
From the paths of folly;
Bringing me to Thy
Tabernacles high,
In Thy hill most holy.

4.

To God's altars tho
I will boldly go,
Shaking off all sadnes;
To that God that is
God of all my blisse,
God of all my gladness.

5.

Then lo, then I will,
With sweet musick's skill,
Gratefull meaning show Thee:
Then, God, yea, my God,
I will sing abroad
What great thanks I ow Thee.

6.

Why art thou, my soul,
Cast down in such dole?
What ayles thy discomfort?
Wait on God, for still
Thank my God I will,
My onely aide and comfort.