2.47: "Psalm 57"

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Page ID: 8890

Bonnie J. Robinson & Laura Getty
University of North Georgia via University of North Georgia Press

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(1599)

Thy mercy, Lord, Lord, now thy mercy show:

On thee I lie;

To thee I fly.

Hide me, hive me, as thine own,

Till these blasts be overblown,

Which now do fiercely blow.

To highest God I will erect my cry,

Who quickly shall

Dispatch this all.

He shall down from heaven send

From disgrace me to defend

His love and verity.

My soul encaged lies with lions’ brood,

Villains whose hands

Are fiery brands,

Teeth more sharp than shaft or spear,

Tongues far better edge do bear

Than swords to shed my blood.

As high as highest heav’n can give thee place,

O Lord, ascend,

And thence extend

With most bright, most glorious show

Over all the earth below,

The sunbeams of thy face.

Me to entangle every way I go

Their trap and net

Is ready set.

Holes they dig but their own holes

Pitfalls make for their own souls:

So, Lord, oh, serve them so.

My heart prepared, prepared is my heart

To spread thy praise

With tuned lays:

Wake my tongue, my lute awake,

Thou my harp the consort make,

Myself will bear a part.

Myself when first the morning shall appear,

With voice and string

So will thee sing:

That this earthly globe, and all

Treading on this earthly ball,

My praising notes shall hear.

For god, my only God, thy gracious love

Is mounted far

Above each star,

Thy unchanged verity

Heav’nly wings do lift as high

As clouds have room to move.

As high as highest heav’n can give thee place,

O Lord, ascend

And thence extend

With most bright, most glorious show

Over all the earth below,

The sunbeams of thy face.