« EdellinenJatka »
9 If I the morning's wings could gain,
And fly beyond the western main, 10 Thy swifter hand would first arrive,
And there arrest thy fugitive.
Beneath the sable wings of night;
Would kindle darkness into day. 12 The veil of night is no disguise,
No screen from thy all-searching eyes ;
As in the blazing noon of day.
My reins, and every vital part;
By thee was cover'd in the womb.
A work of such a curious frame;
My soul with grateful joy must own. 15 Thine eyes my substance did survey,
Whilst yet a lifeless mass it lay,
Ere from its dark enclosure brought. 16 Thou didst the shapeless embryo see,
Its parts were register'd by thee;
Form'd by the model of thy book. 17 Let me acknowledge too, O God,
That since this maze of life I trod,
The power of numbers to recount. 18 Far sooner could I reckon o'er
The sands upon the ocean's shore;
I find th' account but new begun.
Depart from me, ye men of blood, 20 Whose tongues heaven's Majesty profane,
And take tħ? Almighty's name in vain. 21 Lord, hate not I their impious crew,
Who thee with enmity pursue?
When reprobates thy laws transgress? 22 Who practise enmity to thee
Shall utmost hatred have from me;
As if they were my foes profest. 23, 24 Search, try, O God, my thoughts and heart,
If mischief lurk in any part;
PSALM CXL. 1 RESERVE me, Lord, from crafty foes,
of treacherous intent; 2 And from the sons of violence,
on open mischief bent. 3 Their sland'ring tongue the serpent's sting
in sharpness does exceed; Between their lips the gall of asps
and adder's venom breed. 4 Preserve me, Lord, from wicked hands,
nor leave my soul forlorn, A prey to sons of violence,
who have my ruin sworn. 5 The proud for me have laid their snare,
and spread their wily net; With traps and gins, where'er I move,
I find my steps beset. 6 But thus environ'd with distress,
thou art my God, I said; Lord, hear my supplicating voice,
that calls to thee for aid. 7 O Lord, the God whose saving strength
kind succour did convey, And cover'd my advent'rous head
in battle's doubtful day; 8 Permit not their unjust designs
to answer their desire; Lest they, encourag'd by success,
to bolder crimes aspire. 9 Let first their chiefs the sad effects
of their injustice mourn ; The blast of their envenom'd breath
upon themselves return. 10 Let them who kindle first the flame,
its sacrifice become; The pit they digg'd for me be made
their own untimely tomb. 11 Though slander's breath may raise a storm,
it quickly will decay: Their rage does but the torrent swell,
that bears themselves away. 12 God will assert the poor man's cause,
and speedy succour give : The just shall celebrate his praise, and in his presence live.
PSALM CXLI. 1 T1O thee, O Lord, my cries ascend,
O haste to my relief; And with accustom'd pity hear
the accents of my grief.
2 Instead of off'rings, let my prayer
like morning incense rise; My lifted hand supply the place
of evening sacrifice. 3 From hasty language curb my tongue,
and let a constant guard Still keep the portal of my lips
with wary silence barrd. 4 From wicked men's designs and deeds
my heart and hands restrain; Nor let me in the booty share
of their unrighteous gain. 5 Let upright men reprove my faults,
and I shall think them kind;
I their reproof shall find;
I shall for them address,
like me, to sore distress.
I to their chiefs appeal,
when I had power to kill.
our scatter'd ruins lie
the sever'd splinters fly.
my supplicating eyes;
whose trust on thee relies. 9 Do thou preserve me from the snares
that wicked hands have laid; Let them in their own nets be caught, while my escape is made.
PSALM CXLII. 1 NO God, with mournful voice,
in deep distress I pray'd; 2 Made him the umpire of my cause,
my wrongs before him laid. 3 Thou didst my steps direct,
when my griev'd soul despair'd; For where I thought to walk secure,
they had their traps prepar'd. 4 I look'd, but found no friend
to own me in distress; All refuge fail'd, no man vouchsaf'd
his pity or redress. 5 To God at last I pray'd;
thou, Lord, my refuge art,
My portion in the land of life,
till life itself depart. 6 Reduc'd to greatest straits,
to thee I make my moan; O save me from oppressing foes,
for me too powerful grown. 7 Thát I may praise thy name,
my soul from prison bring; Whilst of thy kind regard to me assembled saints shall sing.
PSALM CXLIII. 1
hear my prayer, and to my cry thy wonted audience lend; In thy accustom'd faith and truth
a gracious answer send. 2 Nor at thy strict tribunal bring
thy servant to be try'd; For in thy sight no living man
can e'er be justified. 3 The spiteful foe pursues my life,
whose comforts all are fled; He drives me into caves as dark
as mansions of the dead.
and sinks within my breast;
with heavy woes opprest.
and wonders thou hast wrought; My former dangers and escapes
employ my musing thought.
I fervently stretch out;
like land oppress'd with drought.
thy face no longer hide,
that in the grave reside.
whose trust on thee depends; Teach me the way where I should go;
my soul to thee ascends.
preserve and set me free;
my soul implores from thee.
instruct me to obey;
my soul in thy right way.
u O! for the sake of thy great name,
revive my drooping heart; For thy truth's sake, to me distress'd,
the promis'd aid impart. 12 In pity to my sufferings, Lord, reduce
foes to shame; Slay them that persecute a soul devoted to thy name.
PSALM CXLIV. 1 TOR ever bless'd be God the Lord,
who does his needful aid impart, At once both strength and skill afford,
to wield my arms with warlike art. 2 His goodness is my fort and tower,
my strong deliv'rance, and my shield; In him I trust whose matchless power
makes to my sway fierce nations yield. 3 Lord, what's in man, that thou shouldst love
of him such tender care to take ? What in his offspring could thee move
such great account of him to make ? 4 The life of man does quickly fade,
his thoughts but empty are and vain, His days are like a flying shade,
of whose short stay no signs remain. 5 In solemn state, O God, descend,
whilst heaven its lofty head inclines; The smoking hills asunder rend,
of thy approach the awful signs. 6 Discharge thy awful lightnings round,
and make thy scatter'd foes, retreat; Then with thy pointed arrows wound,
and their destruction soon complete. 7, 8 Do thou, O Lord, from heaven engage
thy boundless power my foes to quell, And snatch me from the stormy rage
of threatning waves, that proudly swell. Fight thou against my foreign foes,
who utter speeches false and vain; Who, though in solemn leagues they close,
their sworn engagements ne'er maintain. 9 So I to thee, O King of kings,
in new-made hymns my voice shall raise, And instruments of many strings
shall help me thus to sing thy praise : 10 “God does to kings his aid afford,
" to them his sure salvation sends; 6 'Tis he that from the murdering sword
66 his servant David still defends." 11 Fight thou against my foreign foes,
who utter speeches false and vain;