English

Lord , Thy deserved wrath assuage,
Nor punish in Thy burning ire;
Let mercy mitigate Thy rage,
Before my fainting life expire.

O heal! My bones with anguish ache;
My pensive heart with sorrow worn;
How long wilt Thou my soul forsake?
O pity, and at length return!

O let Thy mercies comfort me,
And Thy afflicted servant save!
Who will in death remember Thee,
Or praise Thee in the silent grave?

Vex'd by insulting enemies,
My groans disturb the peaceful night;

To hear me, Lord, be Thou inclin'd;
My thoughts O ponder in Thy mind,
And let my cries acceptance find.
Thou hear'st my morning sacrifice;
To Thee, before the day-star rise,
My pray'rs ascend with steadfast eyes.

Thou lov'st no vice; none dwells with Thee;
Nor glorious fools Thy beauty see;
All sin-defil'd detested be.
Liars shall sink beneath Thy hate,
Who thirst for blood and weave deceit,
Thy rage shall swiftly ruinate.

I to Thy temple will repair,
Since infinite Thy mercies are,

Thou , Guardian of my truth and me,
That from these straits hast set me free,
O hear my pray'r;
Be I Thy care;
For mercy lives in Thee.

You sons of men, how long will you
Eclipse my glory, and pursue
Lov'd vanities;
Delight in lies,
To man, to God untrue?

Know, God my innocence hath blest,
And will with sov'reignty invest;
His gentle ear
Prepar'd to hear
My never vain request.

Sin not, but fear; surcease, and try
Your hearts, as on your beds you lie:
Pure gifts present

My God, how are my foes increas'd!
What multitudes against me rise!
Who say, Give we his soul no rest
Whom God forsakes and men despise.

But Thou art my support, my tow'r,
My safety, my choice ornament;
Before Thy throne my pray'rs I pour,
Heard from Thy Sion's high ascent.

No fears affright my soft repose;
Thou my night-watch, my guard by day;
Not myriads of armed foes,
Nor treason's secret hands dismay.

Arise, O vindicate my cause!
My foes, whom wicked hate provoke,

How are the Gentiles all on fire!
Why rage they with vain menacings?
Earth's haughty potentates and kings
'Gainst God, against His Christ conspire:
Break we, say they, their servile bands,
And cast their cords from our free hands.

But God from his caelestial throne
Shall laugh, and their attempts deride;
Then high incens'd, thus check their pride,
(His wrath in their confusion shown):
Lo! I my King have crown'd, and will
Enthrone on Sion's sacred hill.

That great decree I shall declare;

As on Euphrates' shady banks we lay,
And there, O Sion, to thy ashes pay
Our funeral tears; our silent harps, unstrung,
And unregarded on the willows hung.
Lo, they who had thy desolation wrought,
And captiv'd Judah unto Babel brought,
Deride the tears which from our sorrows spring,
And say in scorn, Asong of Sion sing.
Shall we profane our harps at their command,
Or holy hymns sing in a foreign land?
O Solyma! thou that art now become
A heap of stones, and to thyself a tomb!
When I forget thee, my dear mother, let

The Lord my shepherd, me His sheep
Will from consuming famine keep.
He fosters me in fragrant meads,
By softly-sliding waters leads;

My soul refresh'd with pleasant juice,
And lest they should His name traduce,
Then when I wander in the maze
Of tempting sin, informs my ways.

No terror can my courage quail,
Though shaded in death's gloomy veil;
By Thy protection fortifi'd,
Thy staff my stay, Thy rod my guide.

My table Thou hast furnished,
Pour'd precious odours on my head:

O Thou, who all things hast of nothing made,
Whose hand the radiant firmament displayed,
With such an undiscerned swiftness hurled
About the steadfast centre of the world;
Against whose rapid course the restless sun,
And wandering flames in varied motions run,
Which heat, light, life infuse; time, night, and day
Distinguish; in our human bodies sway:
That hung'st the solid earth in fleeting air
Veined with clear springs, which ambient seas repair,
In clouds the mountains wrap their hoary heads;

1. How doth the city sit solitary, that was full of people! how is she become as a widow! she that was great among the nations, and princess among the provinces, how is she become tributary!
2. She weepeth sore in the night, and her tears are on her cheeks: among all
her lovers she hath none to comfort her: all her friends have dealt
treacherously with her, they are become her enemies.
3. Judah is gone into capitivity because of affliction, and because of great

1. How is the gold become dim! how is the most fine gold changed! the stones of the sanctuary are poured out in the tops of every street.
2. The precious sons of Zion, comparable to fine gold, how are they esteemed as earthen pitchers, the work of the hands of the potter!
3. Even the sea monsters draw out the breast, they give suck to their young ones: the daughter of my people is become cruel, like the ostriches in the wilderness.
4. The tongue of the sucking child cleaveth to the roof of his mouth for thirst: the young children ask bread, and no man breaketh it unto them.