Classic Poem

My heart doth in the Lord rejoice, that living Lord of might,
Which doth his servants horn exalt, in al his peoples sight.
I wil rejoice in their despight, which erst have me abhord,
Because that my salvation dependeth on the Lord.
None is so holie as the Lord, besides thee none htere are:
With our God there is no God, that may himselfe compare.
See that no more presumptuously, ye neither boast nor vaunt,
Nor yet unseemly speak such things, so proud and arrogant.
For why? the counsell of the Lord, in depth cannot be sought,
Our enterprises and our actes, by him to passe are brought.
The bowe is broke, the mightie ones subverted are at length,
And they which weake and feeble were, increased are in strength:
They that were ful & had great store, with labor buy their bread,
And they which hungrie were & poore, with plenty now are fed.
So that the womb which barren was, hath many children born,
And she which store of children had, is left now all for orne.
The Lord doth kill and make alive, his judgments all are just,
He throweth downe into the grave, and raiseth from the dust.
The Lord doth make both rich & poore, he al our thoughts doth trie.
He bringeth low & eke againe, exalteth up on hie.
He raiseth up the simple soule, whom men pursude with hate,
To sit amongst the mightie ones, in chaire of princely state.
For why? the pillers of the earth, he placed with his hand,
Whose mighty strength doth stil support, the waight of al the land.
He wil preserve his Saints likewise, the wicked men at length
He wil confound: let no man seem, to glory in his strength.
The enemies of God the Lord, shal be destroied all,
From heaven he shal thunder send, that on their heads shal fall.
The mightie Lord shall judge the world, & give his power alone
Unto the King, and shal exalt his owne annointed one.