[Footnote 224: 'On my' written here and erased. G.]
That man is blest who doth the poore regard; In tymes of truble God shall him reward, Prolong his life, and blesse him in the Land, And free him from his foes' oppressing hand: Shall comfort him, when sicke and weake hee lies, And make his bedd till hee in health doe rise: My synne hath giuen my soule a greiuous wound, Apply Thy mercy Lord, and make it sound; Thus speakes my foe of mee to show his spight, 'When shall his life and honnour perish quite'? Hee vissitts mee, but with false heart and tongue And thereof vaunts, his complices amonge: Euen all my foes against mee doe conspire, And with one minde my ruin doe desire; 'Let him,' say they of mee, 'in judgement fall And when hee once is downe not rise at all.' The freind I trusted, which did eat my bread, Hath lifted vp his heele against my head. Thy mercie's winges on mee O Lord display; Raise mee againe, and I shall them repay. By this I doe Thy gracious fauour see, In that my foe doth not trihumph on mee. Thou in my health uphouldst mee with Thy hand, And in Thy presence I shall euer stand. The name of JACOB'S GOD bee blessèd then, From age to age for euermore: Amen.
As for the streames the hunted hart doth bray, Soe for God's grace my heart doth pant and pray. My soule doth thirst (O God of life!) for Thee, When shall I come Thy blessed[225] face to see? My teares are all my food both night and day, While 'where is now thy God?' the wicked say. I powrèd out my hart, while thus I thought And to God's House the multitude I brought: With songs of praise and thankfullnes withall, To celebrate the Lord's great festiuall: Then why art thou my soule soe full of woe, Vnquiet in thyselfe and vexèd soe? O put thy trust in God and thankfull bee, For his sweet helpe His presence yields to Thee. My soule is greiu'd remembringe all the ill I felt in JORDAN'S vale and HERMON hill. One depth of sorrow doth to another call, Thy waves O God haue ouergon mee all: I prais'd at night God's bounty of the day, And vnto Him that giues mee life did pray. God of my strength, why hast Thou left mee soe, With heauy hart oppressèd by my foe? My foe doth cut my bones as with a sword, While hee in scorne repeats this bitter word, 'Where is thy God?' his speech to mee is such: 'Where is thy God, of which thou talk'st soe much?' But why art thou my soule dejected soe? Why art thou trubled and soe full of woe? Trust thou in God, and giue Him thankfull praise[226] Who is Thy present helpe in all thy wayes.