4 Those men that do without a cause Than are the hairs upon my head They that would me destroy, and are 5 Lord, thou my folly know'st, my sins Not cover'd are from thee. 6 Let none that wait on thee be sham'd, Lord God of hosts, for me. O Lord, the God of Israel, Let none, who search do make, 7 For I have borne reproach for thee 8 To brethren strange, to mother's sons An alien I became. 9 Because the zeal did eat me up, 10 My tears and fasts, t' afflict my soul, Were turned to my shame. 11 When sackcloth I did wear, to them A proverb I became. 12 The men that in the gate do sit They also that vile drunkards were 14 Deliver me out of the mire, Free me from those that do me hate, 15 Let not the flood on me prevail, Nor deep me swallow, nor the pit 16 Hear me, O Lord, because thy love 17 Nor from thy servant hide thy face: 18 Draw near my soul, and it redeem ; Me from my foes defend. 19 To thee is my reproach well known, Those that mine adversaries be 20 Reproach hath broke my heart; I'm full 21 They also bitter gall did give They gave me vinegar to drink, When as my thirst was great. 22 Before them let their table prove 23 Let thou their eyes so darken'd be, 24 Thy fury pour thou out on them, And let thy wrathful anger, Lord, 25 All waste and desolate let be And in their tabernacles all 26 Because him they do persecute, 27 Add thou iniquity unto Their former wickedness; And do not let them come at all 28 Out of the book of life let them 29 But now become exceeding poor By thy salvation, O my God, 30 The name of God I with a song 31 This to the Lord a sacrifice 32 When this the humble men shall see, It joy to them shall give : O all ye that do seek the Lord. Your hearts shall ever live. 33 For God the poor hears, and will not His prisoners contemn. 34 Let heav'n, and earth, and seas, him praise; And all that move in them. 35 For God will Judah's cities build, That they may dwell therein, and it 36 And they that are his servants' seed So shall they have their dwelling there PSALM LXX. THE same as Psal. xl. being only a repetition of the five last verses thereof. 1 In form of God although he was, Into a servile humbled down, Behold th' eternal peerless Son: To claim, he thought it robb'ry none; Come, praise him, praise him, ev'ry one. ORD, haste me to deliver; With speed, Lord, succour me. 2 Let them that for my soul do seek Sham'd and confounded be: Turn'd back be they, and sham'd, 3 Turn'd back be they, Ha, ha! that say, 4 In thee let all be glad, Come, Lord, and make no stay; 1 M2 Another of the same. TAKE haste, O God, me to preserve; With speed, Lord, succour me. 2 Let them that for my soul do seek Sham'd and confounded be: Let them be turned back, and sham'd, 3 Turn'd back be they, Ha, ha! that › 4 O Lord, in thee let all be glad, say, PSALM LXXI. This glorious Psalm lies so deep buried in the rubbish which the commentators, from generation to generation, have been heaping upon it, that, at the first view, one may be ready to suppose it, like the first temple, absolutely lost in its ruins, and may, with the dying mother, when told of the ark's departure, cry out, Ichabod! Where is the glory?— |