Psalterium Carolinum - Ode 23
Thou that alone art infinite
In good, and greatness; dwel'st with me:
Weigh'd with thy Presence Life is light,
Thy service perfect Liberty:
Own me for thine, I cannot but be free.
As I am Man with Reason bless,
With Zeal as Christian; Right as King:
Of outwards stript, let me possess
Thee in the joys that from Thee spring;
Which 'gainst my will no force can from me wring.
Let not my Passion over-boyle
To fruitless Rage, or sordid fear:
They think him helpless whom they foyle:
But let thy chearfull light appear,
And secure freedome shall my glories clear.
Befitting my afflicted state,
A patient Constancy bestow:
My strength and hopes are dissipate,
My self imprison'd by the Foe:
O be not far, lest they too mighty grow.
A scorn and wonder I am made;
Thou my defence and succour be:
My Foes asham'd to see thy aid;
In thy free Spirit settle me
To act and suffer, what is will'd by Thee.
My Soul into thy favour bring,
For She her Hope in Thee hath plac't!
My shelter is thy shady Wing,
Till these Calamities be past:
Rise to deliver us, my God make hast!
Thy mercy (though the Life it gives,
Thou take away) shall be my Trust:
I know that my Redeemer lives;
Though in Deaths vale resolv'd to Dust,
Yet shall no taint of fear my bright Faith rust.
In good, and greatness; dwel'st with me:
Weigh'd with thy Presence Life is light,
Thy service perfect Liberty:
Own me for thine, I cannot but be free.
As I am Man with Reason bless,
With Zeal as Christian; Right as King:
Of outwards stript, let me possess
Thee in the joys that from Thee spring;
Which 'gainst my will no force can from me wring.
Let not my Passion over-boyle
To fruitless Rage, or sordid fear:
They think him helpless whom they foyle:
But let thy chearfull light appear,
And secure freedome shall my glories clear.
Befitting my afflicted state,
A patient Constancy bestow:
My strength and hopes are dissipate,
My self imprison'd by the Foe:
O be not far, lest they too mighty grow.
A scorn and wonder I am made;
Thou my defence and succour be:
My Foes asham'd to see thy aid;
In thy free Spirit settle me
To act and suffer, what is will'd by Thee.
My Soul into thy favour bring,
For She her Hope in Thee hath plac't!
My shelter is thy shady Wing,
Till these Calamities be past:
Rise to deliver us, my God make hast!
Thy mercy (though the Life it gives,
Thou take away) shall be my Trust:
I know that my Redeemer lives;
Though in Deaths vale resolv'd to Dust,
Yet shall no taint of fear my bright Faith rust.
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