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PSA L M S.

B

PSALM I. Done into verfe, 1653.

Lefs'd is the man who hath not walk'd astray
In counfel of the wicked, and i' th' way
of finners hath not stood, and in the feat
Of fcorners hath not fat. But in the great
Jehovah's law is ever his delight,

And in his law he ftudies day and night.
He shall be as a tree which planted grows
By watery ftreams, and in his feafon knows
To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall,
And what he takes in hand fhall profper all.
Not fo the wicked, but as chaff which fann'd
The wind drives, fo the wicked fhall not ftand'
In judgment, or abide their trial then,
Nor finners in th' afsembly of just men.
For the Lord knows th' upright way of the juft,
And the way of bad men to ruin must.

PSAL. II. Done Aug. 8, 1653. Terzette.

WHY do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations

WH

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Muse a vain thing, the kings of th' earth up stand With power, and princes in their congregations Lay deep their plots together through each land

Against

Against the Lord and his Meffiah dear?

Let us break off, fay they, by ftrength of hand Their bonds, and caft from us, no more to wear, Their twisted cords: He who in Heav'n doth dwell Shall laugh, the Lord fhall fcoff them, then fevere Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell

And fierce ire trouble them; but I, faith he, Anointed have my King (though ye rebel) On Sion my holy' hill. A firm decree

I will declare; the Lord to me hath faid Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee This day; afk of me, and the grant is made; As thy poffeffion I on thee bestow

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Th' Heathen, and as thy conqueft to be sway'd Earth's utmost bounds: them fhalt thou bring full low

With iron fcepter bruis'd, and them disperse
Like to a potter's veffel fhiver'd fo.

And now be wife at length, ye Kings averse,
Be taught, ye Judges of the earth; with fear
Jehovah ferve, and let your joy converse
With trembling; kifs the Son, left he appear
In anger, and ye perish in the way,

If once his wrath take fire like fuel fere.
Happy all thofe who have in him their stay!

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PSAL. III.

PSAL. III. Aug. 9, 1653.

When he fled from Abfalom.

LORD, how many are my foes!

How many those

That in arms against me rise !
Many are they

That of my life distrustfully thus say,
No help for him in God there lies.

But thou, Lord, art my shield, my glory,
Thee through my story

Th' exalter of my head I count;

Aloud I cry'd

Unto Jehovah, he full foon reply'd And heard me from his holy mount.

I lay and flept, I wak'd again,

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I fear not, though incamping round about

They pitch against me their pavilions.

Rife, Lord; save me, my God; for thou

Haft fmote ere now

On the cheek-bone all my foes,

Of men abhorr'd

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Haft broke the teeth. This help was from the Lord;

Thy bleffing on thy people flows.

PSAL. IV.

A

PS AL. IV. Aug. 10, 1653.

NSWER me when I call,

God of my righteoufnefs,

In ftraits and in diftrefs

Thou didft me difinthrall

And fet at large; now fpare,

Now pity me, and hear my earneft prayer.

Great-ones, how long will ye

My glory have in fcorn,

How long be thus forborn

Still to love vanity;

To love, to feek, to prize

Things falfe and vain, and nothing else but lies?

Yet know the Lord hath chofe,

Chofe to himself apart,

The good and meek of heart

(For whom to choose he knows):

Jehovah from on high

Will hear my voice what time to him I cry.

Be aw'd, and do not fin,

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On

On us lift up

the light,

Lift up the favor of thy count'nance bright.

Into my heart more joy

And gladness thou haft put,

Than when a year of glut

Their ftores doth over-cloy,

And from their plenteous grounds

With vaft increase their corn and wine abounds.

In peace at once will I

Both lay me down and fleep,

For thou alone doft keep

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Me fafe where'er I lie;

As in a rocky cell

Thou, Lord, alone in fafety mak'st me dwell.

JEHO

PSA L. V. Aug. 12, 1653.

EHOVAH, to my words give ear,
My meditation weigh,

The voice of my complaining hear

My King and God; for unto thee I pray.

Jehovah, thou my early voice

Shalt in the morning hear,

I' th' morning I to thee with choice

Will rank my prayers, and watch till thou appear.

For thou art not a God that takes

In wickednefs delight,

Evil with thee no biding makes,

Fools or mad men stand not within thy fight.

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