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Humanities Libertexts

2.47: "Psalm 57"

  • Page ID
    8890
  • (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.

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