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PSAL. VI. Aug. 13. 1653.

ORD in thine anger do not reprehend me,
Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct;

Pity me, Lord, for I am much deject, nd very weak and faint; heal and amend me: or all my bones, that ev'n with anguish ake, Are troubled, yea my foul is troubled fore, And thou, O Lord, how long? turn Lord, restore My foul, O fave me for thy goodness fake: or in death no remembrance is of thee; Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise? Wearied I am with fighing out my days, Nightly my couch I make a kind of sea;

My bed I water with

my tears; mine eye

Through grief confumes, is waxen old and dark

I'th' midst of all mine enemies that mark.

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Depart from me, for the voice of my weeping


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The Lord hath heard, the Lord hath heard my


My fupplication with acceptance fair

The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping. 20

Mine enemies fhall all be blank and dafh'd

With much confufion; then grown red with shame, They shall return in hafte the way they came, › And in a moment shall be quite abafh'dawy ! PSAL. VII. Aug. 14. 1653.

Upon the words of Chush the Benjamite against him. des îllvilī sluzi.


ORD my God to thee I fly did a quit

Save me and fecure me underes you oh a bas Thy protection while I cry,

Left as a lion (and no wonder)

He hafte to tear my foul afunder,

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Tearing and no rescue nigh,adha : d

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Lord my God if I have thought

Or done this, if wickedness

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Or to him have render'd less,

And not free'd my foe for nought; nhà

Let th' enemy purfue my foul

And overtake it, let him tread


My life down to the earth, and roll

In the duft my glory dead,

In the dust and there out-spread

Lodge it with dishonor foul.

Rife Jehovah in thine ire,

Rouse thyself amidst the rage

Of my foes that urge like fire;

And wake for me, their fury' affwage;
Judgment here thou didst engage
And command which I defire.

So th' affemblies of each nation

Will furround thee, seeking right,
Thence to thy glorious habitation

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Of evil men the wickedness

And their pow'r that do amifs.

But the just establish fast,

Since thou art the just God that tries
Hearts and reins. On God is caft
My defense, and in him lies,
In him who both just and wife

Saves th' upright of heart at last.


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The tools of death, that waits him near.

(His arrows purposely made he

For them that perfecute.) Behold


He travels big with vanity,

Trouble he hath conceiv'd of old
As in a womb, and from that mold
Hath at length brought forth a lie.




Te digg'd a pit, and delv'd it deep,

nd fell into the pit he made;

Tis mischief that due course doth keep,
Turns on his head, and his ill trade

of violence will undelay'd

Fall on his crown with ruin steep.


Then will I Jehovah's praise
According to his justice raise,
And fing the Name and Deity
Of Jehovah the most high.

PSAL. VIII. Aug. 14. 1653.

Jehovah our Lord, how wondrous great

And glorious is thy name through all the earth!

So as above the Heav'ns thy praise to fet
Out of the tender mouths of latest birth.

Out of the mouths of babes and fucklings thou
Haft founded ftrength because of all thy foes,
To ftint th' enemy, and flack th' avenger's brow,
That bends his rage thy providence to' oppose.

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