A heauenly harmonie of spirituall songes, and holy himnes, of godly men, patriarkes, and prophets
         Harmonie of the church
         Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631.
      
       
         
           1610
        
      
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             A heauenly harmonie of spirituall songes, and holy himnes, of godly men, patriarkes, and prophets
             Harmonie of the church
             Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631.
          
           [46] p.
           
             [By Thomas Orwin, reissued probably by W. White],
             Imprinted at London :
             1610.
          
           
             "To the curteous reader" signed: M.D., i.e. Michael Drayton.
             In verse.
             Signatures: A⁴ (-A1,2, + pi¹) B-F⁴.
             A reissue, probably by W. White, of "A harmonie of the church", printed by Thomas Orwin, 1591, with new title page cancelling A1 and 2 (STC).
             Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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         eng
      
       
         
           Hymns, English.
        
      
    
     
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           A
           Heauenly
           Harmonie
           of
           Spirituall
           Songes
           ,
           and
           holy
           Himnes
           ,
           of
           godly
           Men
           ,
           Patriarkes
           ,
           and
           Prophets
           .
        
         
           Imprinted
           at
           London
           .
           1610.
           
        
      
       
         
         
         
           To
           the
           curteous
           Reader
           .
        
         
           GEntle
           Reader
           ,
           my
           meaning
           is
           not
           with
           the
           varietie
           of
           verse
           to
           feede
           any
           vaine
           humour
           ,
           neither
           to
           trouble
           thee
           with
           deuises
           of
           mine
           owne
           inuention
           ,
           as
           carieng
           an
           ouerweening
           of
           mine
           owne
           wit
           :
           but
           here
           I
           present
           thee
           with
           these
           Psalmes
           or
           Songes
           of
           praise
           ,
           so
           exactly
           translated
           as
           the
           prose
           would
           permit
           ,
           or
           sence
           would
           any
           way
           suffer
           me
           :
           which
           (
           if
           thou
           shalt
           be
           the
           same
           in
           hart
           thou
           art
           in
           name
           ,
           I
           mean
           a
           Christian
           )
           I
           doubt
           not
           ,
           but
           thou
           wilt
           take
           as
           great
           delight
           in
           these
           ,
           as
           in
           any
           Poetical
           fiction
           .
           I
           speak
           not
           of
           Mars
           ,
           the
           god
           of
           Wars
           ,
           nor
           of
           Venus
           ,
           the
           goddesse
           of
           loue
           ,
           but
           of
           the
           Lord
           of
           Hostes
           ,
           that
           made
           heauen
           and
           earth
           :
           Not
           of
           Toyes
           in
           Mount
           Ida
           ,
           but
           of
           triumphes
           in
           Mount
           Sion
           :
           Not
           of
           Uanitie
           ,
           but
           of
           Ueritie
           :
           not
           of
           Tales
           ,
           but
           of
           Truethes
           .
        
         
           Thus
           submitting
           my selfe
           vnto
           thy
           clemencie
           ,
           and
           my
           labours
           vnto
           thy
           indifferencie
           ,
           I
           wish
           thee
           as
           my selfe
           .
        
         
           
             Thine
             ,
             as
             his
             owne
             .
             M.
             D.
             
          
        
      
       
         
         
           The
           Spirituall
           Songes
           and
           holy
           Hymnes
           ,
           contained
           in
           this
           Book
           .
        
         
           
             1
             THe
             most
             notable
             Song
             of
             Moses
             ,
             which
             he
             made
             a
             litle
             before
             his
             death
             .
          
           
             2
             The
             Song
             of
             the
             Israelites
             ,
             for
             their
             deliuerance
             out
             of
             Egypt
             .
          
           
             3
             The
             most
             excellent
             Song
             of
             Salomon
             .
             Containing
             eight
             Chapters
             .
          
           
             4
             The
             Song
             of
             Annah
             ,
          
           
             5
             The
             Praier
             of
             Ieremiah
             .
          
           
             6
             The
             Song
             of
             Deborah
             and
             Barach
             .
          
           
             7
             A
             Song
             of
             the
             Faithfull
             ,
             for
             the
             mercies
             of
             God.
             
          
           
             8
             Another
             Song
             of
             the
             Faithfull
             .
          
           
             9
             A
             Song
             of
             thankes
             to
             God.
             
          
           
             10.
             
             An
             other
             Song
             of
             the
             Faithfull
             .
          
        
         
           
             Other
             Songes
             and
             Praiers
             out
             of
             the
             bookes
             of
             Apocripha
             .
          
           
             11
             The
             Praier
             of
             Iudith
             .
          
           
             12
             The
             Song
             of
             Iudith
             .
          
           
             13
             A
             Praier
             in
             Ecclesiasticus
             of
             the
             Author
             .
          
           
             14
             The
             Praier
             of
             Salomon
             .
          
           
             15
             A
             Song
             of
             Ihesus
             the
             sonne
             of
             Sirach
             .
          
           
             16
             The
             Praier
             of
             Hester
             .
          
           
             17
             The
             Praier
             of
             Mardocheus
             .
          
           
             18
             A
             Praier
             in
             the
             person
             of
             the
             Faithfull
             .
          
           
             19
             A
             Praier
             of
             Tobias
             .
          
        
         
           FINIS
           .
        
      
    
     
       
         
           
           
             The
             most
             notable
             Song
             of
             Moses
             ,
             containing
             Gods
             benefites
             to
             his
             people
             ,
             which
             he
             taught
             the
             Children
             of
             Israell
             ,
             a
             litle
             before
             his
             death
             :
             and
             commanded
             them
             to
             learne
             it
             ,
             and
             teach
             it
             vnto
             their
             children
             ,
             as
             a
             witnesse
             betweene
             God
             and
             them
             .
             Deutronom
             .
             Chap.
             xxxii
             .
          
           
             
               YEe
               Heauens
               aboue
               ,
               vnto
               my
               speach
               attend
               ,
            
             
               And
               Earth
               below
               ,
               giue
               eare
               vnto
               my
               will
               :
            
             
               My
               doctrine
               shall
               like
               pleasant
               drops
               discend
               ,
            
             
               My
               words
               like
               heauenly
               dew
               shal
               down
               distil
               ,
            
             
               like
               as
               sweet
               showers
               refresh
               the
               hearbs
               again
            
             
               Or
               as
               the
               grasse
               is
               nourish'd
               by
               the
               raine
               ,
            
          
           
             
               I
               will
               describe
               Iehouahs
               name
               aright
               ,
            
             
               And
               to
               that
               God
               giue
               euerlasting
               praise
               :
            
             
               Perfect
               is
               he
               ,
               a
               God
               of
               woondrous
               might
               ,
            
             
               With
               iudgment
               he
               directeth
               all
               his
               waies
               .
            
             
               He
               onely
               true
               ,
               and
               without
               sinne
               to
               trust
               ,
            
             
               Righteous
               is
               he
               ,
               and
               he
               is
               onely
               iust
               .
            
          
           
             
               With
               loathsome
               sinne
               now
               are
               you
               all
               defilde
               ,
            
             
               Not
               of
               his
               seed
               ,
               but
               Bastards
               ,
               basely
               borne
               :
            
             
               And
               from
               his
               mercie
               therefore
               quite
               exilde
               ,
            
             
               Mischieuous
               men
               ,
               through
               follie
               all
               forlorne
               .
            
             
               Is
               it
               not
               he
               which
               hath
               you
               dearly
               bought
               :
            
             
               Proportion'd
               you
               ,
               and
               made
               you
               iust
               of
               nought
               ?
            
          
           
             
             
               Consider
               well
               the
               times
               and
               ages
               past
               .
            
             
               Aske
               thy
               forefathers
               ,
               and
               they
               shall
               thee
               tell
               ,
            
             
               That
               when
               Iehouah
               did
               deuide
               at
               last
               ,
            
             
               Th'
               inheritance
               that
               to
               the
               Nations
               fel
               :
            
             
               And
               seperating
               Adams
               heires
               ,
               he
               gaue
            
             
               the
               portion
               ,
               his
               Israell
               should
               haue
               .
            
          
           
             
               His
               people
               be
               the
               portion
               of
               the
               Lord
               ,
            
             
               Iacob
               the
               lot
               of
               his
               inheritance
               :
            
             
               In
               wildernesse
               he
               hath
               thee
               not
               abhorr'd
               ,
            
             
               But
               in
               wild
               Deserts
               did
               thee
               still
               aduance
               .
            
             
               He
               taught
               thee
               still
               and
               had
               a
               care
               of
               thee
               ,
            
             
               And
               kept
               thee
               as
               the
               apple
               of
               his
               eie
               .
            
          
           
             
               Like
               as
               the
               Eagle
               tricketh
               vp
               her
               neast
               ,
            
             
               Therein
               to
               lay
               her
               litle
               birdes
               full
               soft
               ,
            
             
               And
               on
               her
               backe
               doth
               suffer
               them
               to
               rest
               ,
            
             
               And
               with
               her
               wings
               doth
               carie
               them
               aloft
               .
            
             
               Euen
               so
               the
               Lord
               with
               care
               hath
               nourisht
               thee
               ,
            
             
               And
               thou
               hast
               had
               no
               other
               God
               but
               he
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               great
               Iehouah
               giueth
               vnto
               thee
               ,
            
             
               The
               fertilst
               soyle
               the
               earth
               did
               euer
               yeeld
               :
            
             
               That
               thou
               all
               pleasure
               mightst
               beholde
               and
               see
               ,
            
             
               And
               tast
               the
               fruit
               of
               the
               most
               pleasant
               field
               :
            
             
               Honey
               for
               thee
               out
               of
               the
               flint
               he
               brought
               ,
            
             
               And
               oile
               out
               of
               the
               craggie
               rocke
               he
               wrought
               .
            
          
           
             
               With
               finest
               butter
               still
               he
               hath
               thee
               fed
               ,
            
             
               With
               milke
               of
               Sheep
               he
               hath
               thee
               cherished
               :
            
             
               With
               fat
               of
               Lambes
               ,
               and
               Rammes
               in
               Bazan
               bred
               ,
            
             
               With
               flesh
               of
               Goates
               he
               hath
               thee
               nourished
               .
            
             
               With
               finest
               wheat
               he
               hath
               refresht
               thee
               still
               ,
            
             
               And
               gaue
               thee
               wine
               ,
               thereof
               to
               drink
               thy
               fill
               .
            
          
           
             
               But
               hee
               that
               should
               be
               thankfull
               then
               for
               this
               ,
            
             
               Once
               waring
               fat
               ,
               began
               to
               spurne
               and
               kicke
               :
            
             
               Thou
               art
               so
               crancke
               ,
               and
               such
               thy
               grosenesse
               is
               ,
            
             
             
               That
               now
               to
               lust
               thy
               prouender
               doth
               pricke
               ,
            
             
               That
               he
               that
               made
               thee
               ,
               thou
               remembrest
               not
               ,
            
             
               And
               he
               that
               sau'd
               thee
               thou
               hast
               clean
               forgot
               .
            
          
           
             
               With
               Idols
               they
               offend
               his
               gracious
               eies
               ,
            
             
               And
               by
               their
               sinne
               prouoke
               him
               vnto
               yre
               :
            
             
               To
               deuils
               they
               doo
               offer
               sacrifice
               ,
            
             
               Forsake
               their
               God
               ,
               and
               other
               goddes
               desire
               .
            
             
               Gods
               whose
               beginnings
               were
               but
               strange
               &
               new
               ,
            
             
               Whom
               yet
               their
               fathers
               neuer
               fear'd
               nor
               knew
               .
            
          
           
             
               He
               which
               begat
               thee
               is
               cleane
               out
               of
               mind
               ,
            
             
               The
               God
               which
               form'd
               thee
               thou
               doost
               not
               regard
               :
            
             
               The
               Lord
               to
               angre
               was
               therewith
               inclinde
               ,
            
             
               His
               sonnes
               and
               daughters
               should
               him
               so
               reward
               .
            
             
               And
               there
               he
               vow'd
               his
               chearfull
               face
               to
               hide
               ,
            
             
               To
               see
               their
               end
               ,
               and
               what
               would
               them
               betide
               .
            
          
           
             
               For
               faithlesse
               they
               and
               froward
               are
               become
               ,
            
             
               And
               with
               no
               God
               moue
               me
               to
               ielousie
               :
            
             
               To
               angre
               they
               prouoke
               me
               all
               and
               some
               ,
            
             
               And
               still
               offend
               me
               with
               their
               vanitie
               :
            
             
               And
               with
               no
               people
               I
               will
               mooue
               them
               then
               ,
            
             
               And
               angre
               them
               with
               vaine
               and
               foolish
               men
               .
            
          
           
             
               For
               why
               ?
               my
               wrath
               is
               kindled
               like
               the
               fire
               ,
            
             
               And
               shall
               descend
               to
               the
               infernall
               lake
               :
            
             
               The
               earth
               shall
               be
               consumed
               in
               mine
               ire
               ,
            
             
               My
               flames
               shal
               make
               the
               mighty
               mountains
               quake
            
             
               With
               many
               plagues
               I
               wil
               them
               stil
               annoy
               ,
            
             
               And
               with
               mine
               arrowes
               I
               will
               them
               destroy
               .
            
          
           
             
               With
               hunger
               ,
               heat
               and
               with
               destruction
               ,
            
             
               I
               wil
               them
               burne
               ,
               consume
               and
               ouerthrow
               :
            
             
               They
               shal
               be
               meat
               for
               beasts
               to
               feed
               vppon
               ,
            
             
               The
               ground
               invenom'd
               whereupon
               they
               goe
               .
            
             
               In
               field
               ,
               in
               chamber
               stil
               my
               sword
               shall
               slay
            
             
               Man
               ,
               maid
               &
               child
               ,
               with
               him
               whose
               head
               is
               gray
               .
            
          
           
             
             
               And
               I
               will
               scatter
               them
               both
               far
               and
               neare
               ,
            
             
               And
               hence
               foorth
               make
               their
               memorie
               to
               cease
               ,
            
             
               Saue
               that
               the
               furious
               enemie
               I
               feare
               ,
            
             
               And
               that
               his
               pride
               should
               thereby
               more
               increase
               .
            
             
               And
               they
               should
               say
               ,
               and
               foorth
               this
               rumor
               ring
               ,
            
             
               that
               they
               and
               not
               the
               Lord
               haue
               done
               this
               thing
               .
            
          
           
             
               They
               are
               a
               nation
               void
               of
               counsell
               quite
               ,
            
             
               To
               vnderstand
               ,
               there
               doth
               not
               one
               intend
               :
            
             
               But
               were
               they
               wise
               ,
               in
               it
               they
               woule
               delite
               ,
            
             
               And
               would
               consider
               of
               their
               latter
               end
               .
            
             
               Can
               one
               or
               two
               put
               thousands
               to
               the
               flight
               ,
            
             
               Except
               the
               Lord
               do
               help
               them
               with
               his
               might
               ?
            
          
           
             
               For
               with
               our
               God
               their
               Gods
               may
               not
               compare
               ,
            
             
               Our
               foes
               themselues
               will
               still
               the
               same
               confesse
               :
            
             
               Their
               Uines
               of
               Sodome
               and
               Gomorra
               are
               ,
            
             
               Their
               grapes
               of
               gaule
               ,
               clusters
               of
               bittenesse
               .
            
             
               Their
               wine
               is
               like
               to
               Dragons
               poison
               sure
               ,
            
             
               or
               gaule
               of
               Aspes
               ,
               that
               no
               man
               may
               endure
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               haue
               not
               I
               laid
               vp
               in
               store
               this
               thing
               ,
            
             
               Amongst
               my
               treasures
               doo
               I
               not
               it
               hide
               ?
            
             
               The
               recompence
               with
               vengeance
               wil
               I
               bring
               ,
            
             
               And
               all
               in
               time
               their
               foot
               away
               shall
               slide
               .
            
             
               For
               their
               destruction
               (
               loe
               )
               is
               nowe
               at
               hand
               ,
            
             
               And
               mischief
               here
               euen
               at
               their
               heels
               doth
               stand
               .
            
          
           
             
               For
               why
               ?
               the
               Lord
               doth
               iudge
               the
               earth
               alone
               ,
            
             
               And
               to
               his
               seruants
               shew
               himselfe
               most
               kinde
               :
            
             
               When
               he
               shall
               see
               their
               power
               is
               past
               and
               gone
               ,
            
             
               And
               none
               kept
               vp
               in
               hold
               nor
               left
               behind
               .
            
             
               when
               men
               shal
               say
               ,
               let
               vs
               your
               goddes
               behold
               ,
            
             
               Where
               be
               they
               now
               ,
               whom
               ye
               so
               much
               extold
               ?
            
          
           
             
               Which
               oft
               did
               eat
               the
               fatted
               sacrifice
               ,
            
             
               And
               dranke
               the
               wine
               of
               the
               drinke
               offering
               :
            
             
               Unto
               your
               helpe
               now
               let
               vs
               see
               them
               rise
               :
            
             
             
               Loe
               ,
               I
               am
               God
               ,
               and
               there
               is
               no
               such
               thing
               :
            
             
               I
               kil
               ,
               giue
               life
               ,
               I
               wound
               ,
               make
               whole
               againe
               ,
            
             
               Out
               of
               my
               handes
               no
               man
               can
               ought
               retaine
               .
            
          
           
             
               I
               lift
               my
               hands
               on
               high
               to
               heauen
               aboue
               ,
            
             
               Immortall
               I
               ,
               and
               onely
               liue
               for
               euer
               :
            
             
               My
               glittering
               sword
               I
               sharpe
               for
               my
               behooue
               ,
            
             
               In
               righteous
               iudgment
               still
               I
               doo
               perseuer
               .
            
             
               I
               wil
               send
               vengeance
               on
               mine
               enemies
               ,
            
             
               And
               many
               plagues
               on
               them
               which
               me
               dispise
               .
            
          
           
             
               Mine
               arrowes
               then
               of
               blood
               shal
               haue
               their
               fill
               ,
            
             
               My
               sword
               shal
               eate
               the
               verie
               flesh
               of
               men
               :
            
             
               For
               such
               my
               Saintes
               as
               they
               doo
               slay
               and
               kill
               ,
            
             
               And
               for
               the
               Captiues
               they
               imprison
               then
               .
            
             
               And
               when
               I
               once
               begin
               reuenge
               to
               take
               ,
            
             
               From
               plague
               &
               vengeance
               then
               I
               will
               not
               slake
               .
            
          
           
             
               Ye
               nations
               all
               ,
               honour
               his
               people
               then
               ,
            
             
               He
               will
               reuenge
               his
               seruantes
               guiltlesse
               blood
               ,
            
             
               And
               surely
               plague
               the
               vile
               and
               wicked
               men
               ,
            
             
               Which
               stoutlie
               haue
               against
               him
               euer
               stood
               .
            
             
               He
               will
               shew
               mercie
               stil
               vnto
               his
               land
               ,
            
             
               And
               on
               his
               people
               ,
               brought
               foorth
               by
               his
               hand
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             A
             Song
             of
             Moses
             and
             the
             Israelites
             ,
             for
             their
             deliuerance
             out
             of
             Egypt
             .
             The
             xv
             .
             Chap.
             of
             Exodus
             .
          
           
             
               I
               Will
               sing
               praise
               vnto
               the
               Lord
               for
               aie
               ,
            
             
               Who
               hath
               triumphed
               gloriously
               alone
               ,
            
             
               The
               horse
               and
               rider
               he
               hath
               ouerthrowen
               ,
            
             
               And
               swallowed
               vp
               euen
               in
               the
               raging
               sea
               .
            
          
           
             
               He
               is
               my
               strength
               ,
               he
               is
               my
               song
               of
               praise
               ,
            
             
               He
               is
               the
               God
               of
               my
               saluation
               .
            
             
             
               A
               Temple
               will
               I
               build
               to
               him
               alone
               ,
            
             
               I
               will
               exalt
               my
               fathers
               God
               alwaies
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               Lord
               Iehouah
               is
               a
               man
               of
               warre
               ,
            
             
               Pharao
               ,
               his
               chariots
               ,
               and
               his
               mightie
               hoste
            
             
               Were
               by
               his
               hand
               in
               the
               wilde
               waters
               lost
               ,
            
             
               His
               Captaines
               drowned
               in
               red
               Sea
               so
               farre
               ,
            
          
           
             
               Into
               the
               bottom
               there
               they
               sanke
               like
               stones
               ,
            
             
               The
               mightie
               depthes
               our
               enemies
               deuour
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               owne
               right
               hand
               is
               gloorious
               in
               thy
               power
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               owne
               right
               hand
               hath
               bruised
               al
               their
               bones
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               in
               thy
               glorie
               thou
               subuerted
               hast
            
             
               The
               rebels
               rising
               to
               resist
               thy
               power
               ,
            
             
               Thou
               sentst
               thy
               wrath
               which
               shall
               them
               all
               deuour
               ,
            
             
               Euen
               as
               the
               fire
               doth
               the
               stubble
               wast
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               with
               a
               blast
               out
               of
               thy
               nostrilles
            
             
               The
               flowing
               flood
               stood
               still
               as
               any
               stone
               ,
            
             
               The
               waters
               were
               congealed
               all
               in
               one
               ,
            
             
               And
               firme
               and
               sure
               as
               any
               rockes
               or
               hilles
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               furious
               foe
               so
               vainly
               v●●●teth
               stil
               ,
            
             
               And
               voweth
               to
               pursue
               with
               endlesse
               toile
               ,
            
             
               And
               not
               returne
               til
               he
               haue
               got
               the
               spoile
               ,
            
             
               With
               fire
               and
               sword
               they
               wil
               destroy
               and
               kill
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thou
               sentst
               the
               wind
               which
               ouerwhelm'd
               them
               all
               ,
            
             
               The
               surging
               seas
               came
               sousing
               in
               againe
               ,
            
             
               As
               in
               the
               water
               ,
               so
               with
               might
               and
               maine
               ,
            
             
               Like
               lead
               ,
               vnto
               the
               bottome
               downe
               they
               fall
               .
            
          
           
             
               Oh
               mightie
               Lord
               ,
               who
               may
               with
               thee
               compare
               ?
            
             
               Amongst
               the
               Gods
               I
               find
               none
               like
               to
               thee
               :
            
             
               whose
               glorie
               's
               in
               holines
               ,
               whose
               feares
               in
               praises
               be
            
             
               whose
               chiefe
               delights
               in
               working
               woonders
               are
               .
            
          
           
             
             
               Thou
               stretchest
               out
               thy
               right
               and
               holy
               arme
               ,
            
             
               And
               presently
               the
               earth
               did
               them
               deuour
               :
            
             
               And
               thou
               wilt
               bring
               vs
               by
               thy
               mightie
               power
               ,
            
             
               As
               thou
               hast
               promist
               without
               further
               harme
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               for
               thy
               people
               (
               Lord
               )
               thou
               shalt
               prouide
               ,
            
             
               A
               place
               and
               seat
               of
               quietnesse
               and
               rest
               :
            
             
               The
               nations
               all
               with
               feare
               shall
               be
               opprest
               ,
            
             
               And
               Palestina
               quake
               for
               all
               her
               pride
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               Dukes
               of
               Edom
               shal
               hang
               downe
               the
               head
               ,
            
             
               The
               Moabites
               shall
               tremble
               then
               for
               feare
               ,
            
             
               The
               Cananites
               in
               presence
               shall
               appeare
               ,
            
             
               Like
               vnto
               men
               whose
               fainting
               heartes
               were
               dead
               ,
            
          
           
             
               And
               feare
               and
               dread
               shall
               fall
               on
               them
               alas
               ,
            
             
               Because
               thou
               helpest
               with
               thy
               mighty
               hand
               :
            
             
               So
               stil
               as
               stoues
               amazed
               they
               shal
               stand
               ,
            
             
               Oh
               mightie
               Lord
               ,
               while
               thine
               elect
               doo
               passe
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               thou
               shalt
               bring
               thy
               chosen
               and
               elect
               ,
            
             
               Unto
               the
               mount
               of
               thine
               inheritance
               :
            
             
               A
               place
               prepared
               thy
               people
               to
               aduance
               ,
            
             
               A
               Sanctuary
               there
               thou
               shalt
               erect
               ,
            
          
           
             
               Which
               thou
               (
               oh
               Lord
               )
               establish'd
               hast
               therefore
               ,
            
             
               And
               there
               thy
               name
               shal
               raigne
               for
               euermore
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             The
             most
             excellent
             Song
             which
             was
             Salomons
             ,
             wherein
             is
             declared
             the
             true
             and
             vnfained
             loue
             betweene
             Christ
             and
             his
             Church
             ,
             containing
             ,
             viii
             .
             Chapters
             .
          
           
             
               Chap.
               1.
               
            
             
               LEt
               him
               imbrace
               his
               Deare
               ,
               with
               many
               a
               friendly
               kisse
               ,
            
             
               For
               why
               ?
               thy
               loue
               than
               any
               wine
               to
               me
               more
               pleasant
               is
               :
            
             
               In
               smel
               thou
               art
               most
               like
               ,
               sweet
               odors
               vnto
               me
               ,
            
             
               thy
               name
               like
               precious
               ointmēt
               is
               ,
               so
               sweet
               as
               sweet
               may
               be
            
             
             
               Therefore
               the
               Uirgins
               al
               ,
               of
               thee
               enamored
               are
               ,
            
             
               Entice
               me
               on
               to
               follow
               thee
               ,
               loe
               ,
               we
               our selues
               prepare
               :
            
             
               The
               King
               hath
               brought
               me
               in
               ,
               to
               chamber
               richly
               dight
               ,
            
             
               He
               is
               my
               ioy
               ,
               his
               loue
               is
               sweet
               ,
               the
               good
               in
               him
               delight
               .
            
             
               Ye
               daughters
               of
               Ierusalem
               ,
               although
               that
               browne
               I
               bee
               ,
            
             
               Than
               Arras
               rich
               or
               Cedars
               fruits
               ,
               I
               seemlier
               am
               to
               see
               ,
            
             
               Disdaine
               me
               not
               although
               I
               be
               not
               passing
               faire
               ,
            
             
               For
               why
               ?
               the
               glowing
               sunny
               raies
               discolloured
               haue
               my
               laire
               :
            
             
               My
               mothers
               darlings
               deare
               ,
               with
               enuie
               swelling
               so
               ,
            
             
               Haue
               me
               cōstrain'd
               to
               keep
               their
               Uine
               ,
               thus
               I
               mine
               own
               forgoe
               .
            
             
               Tell
               me
               my
               sweet
               and
               deare
               ,
               where
               thou
               thy
               slocke
               doost
               feed
               ,
            
             
               Or
               where
               thy
               litle
               Lamblings
               rest
               ,
               about
               midday
               indeed
               ?
            
             
               Els
               shall
               I
               walke
               about
               ,
               all
               wandring
               like
               a
               stray
               ,
            
             
               And
               seeke
               thee
               after
               other
               flocks
               ,
               through
               many
               an
               vnknowne
               way
               :
            
             
               If
               that
               my
               pathes
               (
               oh
               Paragon
               )
               be
               so
               vnknowen
               to
               thee
               ,
            
             
               Go
               feed
               thy
               flock
               amongst
               the
               tents
               ,
               wher
               none
               but
               shepherds
               be
               ,
            
             
               My
               true
               and
               loyal
               Loue
               ,
               I
               may
               thee
               well
               compare
            
             
               To
               famous
               Pharaos
               horses
               great
               ,
               which
               in
               his
               chariots
               are
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               cheeks
               bedded
               with
               precious
               stone
               ,
               most
               louely
               to
               behold
               ,
            
             
               About
               thy
               neck
               likewise
               do
               hang
               great
               massy
               chaines
               of
               gold
               .
            
             
               Fine
               costlie
               borders
               for
               my
               Loue
               ,
               of
               gold
               we
               wil
               prepare
               ,
            
             
               With
               siluer
               studs
               accordinglie
               of
               worke
               surpassing
               rare
               .
            
             
               Whiles
               he
               at
               table
               sat
               ,
               perfumes
               then
               did
               I
               make
            
             
               Of
               Spicknard
               sweet
               and
               delicate
               ,
               al
               for
               my
               true
               Loues
               sake
               :
            
             
               My
               loue
               more
               sweet
               than
               Myrrhe
               ,
               between
               my
               breasts
               doth
               ly
               ,
            
             
               Or
               Camphere
               ,
               that
               doth
               spring
               and
               grow
               in
               vine
               of
               Engady
               .
            
             
               How
               faire
               art
               thou
               my
               Loue
               ,
               my
               Doue
               ,
               my
               Darling
               deare
               ,
            
             
               Thine
               eies
               most
               like
               vnto
               the
               Doues
               ,
               in
               sight
               to
               me
               appeare
               .
            
             
               Oh
               how
               exceeding
               faire
               ,
               and
               seemly
               to
               be
               seene
               ,
            
             
               The
               bed
               where
               we
               together
               lie
               ,
               is
               hung
               with
               pleasant
               greene
               :
            
             
               The
               beames
               our
               house
               vphold
               ,
               they
               all
               of
               Cedar
               be
               ,
            
             
               The
               reaching
               Rafters
               of
               the
               same
               ,
               of
               Fyrre
               ,
               that
               stately
               tree
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               second
               Chapter
               .
            
             
               I
               Am
               the
               fragrant
               Flower
               ,
               of
               braue
               vermilion
               hue
               ,
            
             
               And
               Lilie
               in
               the
               valey
               low
               ,
               ysprong
               vp
               fresh
               and
               new
               :
            
             
               As
               Lillie
               flower
               excels
               the
               thorne
               ,
               or
               litle
               chyer
               of
               grasse
               ,
            
             
             
               So
               far
               my
               Loue
               the
               Uirgins
               all
               in
               beautie
               doth
               surpasse
               .
            
             
               Or
               as
               the
               barren
               crooked
               stocke
               vnto
               the
               straightest
               tree
               ,
            
             
               No
               more
               the
               sonnes
               vnto
               my
               Loue
               may
               ought
               compared
               be
               :
            
             
               To
               rest
               by
               his
               sweet
               side
               ,
               to
               mee
               a
               heauenly
               blisse
               ,
            
             
               The
               fruit
               that
               springeth
               from
               my
               Loue
               ,
               exceeding
               pleasant
               is
               .
            
             
               To
               Celler
               he
               me
               brings
               ,
               of
               wine
               aboundant
               store
               ,
            
             
               His
               loue
               displaied
               ouer
               me
               ,
               how
               can
               I
               wish
               for
               more
               ?
            
             
               Fil
               foorth
               your
               Flagons
               then
               ,
               whereof
               the
               fume
               may
               flie
               ,
            
             
               Bring
               forth
               your
               cates
               to
               comfort
               me
               ,
               ah
               me
               ,
               for
               loue
               I
               die
               .
            
             
               His
               left
               hand
               clipping
               close
               ,
               about
               my
               necke
               doth
               hold
               ,
            
             
               His
               right
               doth
               sweetly
               me
               imbrace
               ,
               and
               eke
               my
               corps
               enfold
               .
            
             
               I
               charge
               you
               by
               the
               Roes
               and
               Hinds
               ,
               ye
               Iewish
               daughters
               all
               ,
            
             
               Not
               once
               to
               stir
               nor
               wake
               my
               Loue
               ,
               vntil
               she
               please
               to
               call
               .
            
             
               But
               stay
               ,
               me
               thinks
               this
               is
               ,
               mine
               owne
               Loues
               voice
               I
               heare
               ,
            
             
               Loe
               ,
               how
               he
               skips
               from
               hill
               to
               hill
               ,
               loe
               ,
               you
               he
               doth
               appeare
               .
            
             
               My
               Loue
               is
               like
               a
               Roe
               ,
               that
               frisketh
               in
               the
               wood
               ,
            
             
               Or
               like
               the
               strong
               and
               stately
               Hart
               ,
               in
               prime
               and
               lusty
               blood
               .
            
             
               He
               closely
               shroudes
               himselfe
               behind
               our
               wall
               I
               see
               ,
            
             
               And
               through
               the
               gate
               he
               dooth
               disclose
               and
               shew
               himselfe
               to
               me
               .
            
             
               And
               calling
               then
               ,
               he
               saith
               ,
               come
               to
               thine
               owne
               my
               Deare
               ,
            
             
               For
               lo
               ,
               the
               clouds
               are
               past
               and
               gone
               ,
               the
               skies
               are
               christal
               cleare
               :
            
             
               The
               flowers
               in
               the
               field
               ,
               so
               faire
               and
               freshly
               spring
               ,
            
             
               The
               birds
               do
               chant
               with
               merie
               glee
               ,
               the
               Turtle
               now
               doth
               sing
               :
            
             
               The
               fig-trees
               bear
               such
               store
               ,
               that
               boughs
               with
               waight
               are
               bent
               ,
            
             
               The
               Uines
               with
               blossoms
               do
               abound
               ,
               which
               yeeld
               a
               sweet
               accēt
               .
            
             
               Come
               to
               thine
               owne
               my
               deare
               ,
               my
               Darling
               and
               my
               Doue
               ,
            
             
               Leaue
               thou
               the
               place
               of
               thine
               abode
               ,
               come
               to
               thine
               own
               true
               loue
            
             
               Let
               me
               behold
               thy
               face
               ,
               most
               pleasant
               to
               the
               sight
               ,
            
             
               And
               heare
               my
               best
               beloueds
               voice
               ,
               that
               most
               doth
               me
               delight
               .
            
             
               Destroy
               the
               subtil
               Fox
               ,
               that
               doth
               the
               grapes
               deuoure
               ,
            
             
               For
               loe
               ,
               behold
               ,
               the
               time
               is
               come
               ,
               the
               vines
               do
               bud
               and
               floure
               .
            
             
               My
               Loue
               to
               me
               is
               true
               ,
               and
               I
               likewise
               his
               owne
               ,
            
             
               Which
               in
               the
               Lilles
               takes
               repast
               ,
               himselfe
               euen
               all
               alone
               :
            
             
               Until
               the
               day
               doth
               spring
               ,
               or
               shadowes
               fade
               away
               ,
            
             
               Be
               as
               a
               Roe
               or
               like
               the
               Harts
               ,
               which
               on
               the
               mountaines
               play
               .
            
          
           
             
             
               The
               third
               Chapter
               .
            
             
               BY
               night
               within
               my
               bed
               ,
               I
               romed
               here
               and
               there
               ,
            
             
               But
               al
               in
               vain
               ,
               I
               could
               not
               find
               my
               Loue
               &
               friendly
               Fere.
            
             
               Then
               straight
               waies
               vp
               I
               rose
               ,
               and
               searching
               euery
               street
            
             
               throughout
               the
               city
               far
               &
               neer
               ,
               but
               him
               I
               could
               not
               meete
               .
            
             
               The
               watchmen
               found
               me
               tho
               ,
               to
               whom
               I
               then
               can
               say
               ,
            
             
               Haue
               ye
               not
               seen
               mine
               owne
               true
               Loue
               ,
               of
               late
               come
               this
               a
               way
               :
            
             
               Then
               passing
               them
               ,
               I
               found
               my
               Loue
               I
               long
               had
               sought
               ,
            
             
               And
               to
               my
               mothers
               chamber
               then
               ,
               my
               darling
               haue
               I
               brought
               .
            
             
               I
               charge
               you
               by
               the
               Roes
               and
               Hinds
               ,
               this
               vow
               to
               me
               you
               make
               ,
            
             
               Ye
               Iewish
               daughters
               ,
               not
               to
               call
               my
               Loue
               till
               she
               doe
               wake
               .
            
             
               Who
               's
               that
               which
               doth
               frō
               wildernes
               ,
               in
               mighty
               smoke
               appeare
               ,
            
             
               Like
               the
               perfumes
               of
               odors
               sweet
               ,
               which
               Merchāts
               hold
               so
               dear
               .
            
             
               About
               the
               bed
               of
               Salomon
               ,
               behold
               ,
               there
               is
               a
               band
            
             
               Of
               threescore
               valiant
               Israelites
               ,
               which
               al
               in
               armour
               stand
               ,
            
             
               All
               expert
               men
               of
               war
               ,
               with
               sword
               stil
               ready
               prest
               ,
            
             
               Least
               foes
               in
               night
               time
               should
               approch
               ,
               when
               men
               suspect
               them
               least
               :
            
             
               King
               Salomon
               hath
               made
               of
               Liban
               tree
               so
               sure
               ,
            
             
               A
               Pallace
               braue
               ,
               whose
               pillers
               strong
               are
               al
               of
               siluer
               pure
               :
            
             
               The
               pauement
               beaten
               gold
               ,
               the
               hangings
               purple
               graine
               ,
            
             
               The
               daughters
               of
               Ierusalem
               with
               ioy
               to
               entertaine
               .
            
             
               Ye
               Sion
               daughters
               ,
               see
               ,
               where
               Salomon
               is
               set
            
             
               In
               Royall
               throan
               ,
               and
               on
               his
               head
               ,
               the
               princely
               Coronet
               ,
            
             
               Wherewith
               his
               mother
               first
               ,
               adorn'd
               him
               (
               as
               they
               say
               )
            
             
               When
               he
               in
               mariage
               linked
               was
               ,
               euen
               on
               his
               wedding
               day
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               fourth
               Chapter
               .
            
             
               BEhold
               ,
               thou
               art
               al
               faire
               my
               Loue
               ,
               my
               hearts
               delight
               ,
            
             
               Thine
               eies
               so
               louely
               like
               the
               Doues
               ,
               appear
               to
               me
               in
               sight
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               haire
               surpassing
               faire
               and
               seemely
               to
               the
               eie
               ,
            
             
               Like
               to
               a
               goodly
               heard
               of
               Goates
               ,
               on
               Gilead
               mountaine
               hie
               .
            
             
               Thy
               teeth
               like
               new
               washt
               sheep
               ,
               returning
               from
               the
               flood
               ,
            
             
               Wheras
               not
               one
               is
               barren
               found
               ,
               but
               beareth
               twinnes
               so
               good
               .
            
             
               Thy
               lips
               like
               scarlet
               thred
               ,
               thy
               talke
               dooth
               breed
               delight
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               temples
               like
               pomgranet
               faire
               doth
               shew
               to
               me
               in
               sight
               .
            
             
               Thy
               necke
               like
               Dauids
               Tower
               ,
               which
               for
               defence
               doth
               stand
               ,
            
             
             
               Wherein
               the
               shieldes
               and
               targets
               be
               ,
               if
               men
               of
               mightie
               hand
               .
            
             
               Thy
               brests
               like
               twinned
               Roes
               ,
               in
               prime
               and
               youthfull
               age
               ,
            
             
               Which
               feed
               among
               the
               Lillies
               sweet
               ,
               their
               hunger
               to
               asswage
               .
            
             
               Until
               the
               day
               doe
               spring
               ,
               and
               night
               be
               banisht
               hence
               :
            
             
               I
               will
               ascend
               into
               the
               mount
               of
               Myrrhe
               and
               Frankensence
               .
            
             
               Thou
               art
               all
               faire
               my
               Loue
               ,
               most
               seemly
               〈◊〉
               to
               see
               ,
            
             
               From
               head
               to
               foot
               ,
               from
               top
               to
               toe
               ,
               there
               is
               no
               shot
               in
               thee
               .
            
             
               Come
               downe
               from
               Libanon
               ,
               from
               Libanon
               aboue
               ,
            
             
               And
               from
               Amanahs
               mountain
               hie
               ,
               come
               to
               thine
               own
               true
               loue
               .
            
             
               From
               Sheuers
               stately
               top
               ,
               from
               Hermon
               hil
               so
               hie
               ,
            
             
               From
               Lions
               dens
               &
               frō
               the
               cliffes
               ,
               where
               lurking
               Leopards
               lie
               .
            
             
               My
               Spouse
               and
               sister
               deare
               ,
               thy
               loue
               hath
               wounded
               me
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               louely
               eie
               and
               seemly
               neck
               ,
               hath
               made
               me
               yeeld
               to
               thee
               .
            
             
               Thy
               loue
               far
               better
               is
               ,
               than
               any
               wine
               to
               me
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               odors
               sweet
               doth
               far
               surpasse
               ,
               the
               smell
               where
               spices
               be
               .
            
             
               Thy
               lips
               like
               hony
               combe
               ,
               vnder
               thy
               tongue
               doth
               lie
            
             
               The
               honey
               sweet
               :
               thy
               garments
               smel
               ,
               like
               Libanon
               on
               hie
               .
            
             
               My
               Spouse
               a
               garden
               is
               ,
               fast
               vnder
               locke
               and
               kay
               ,
            
             
               Or
               like
               a
               Fountaine
               closed
               〈◊〉
               ,
               where
               sealed
               is
               the
               way
               .
            
             
               Like
               to
               a
               pleasant
               plot
               I
               〈◊〉
               thee
               well
               compare
               ,
            
             
               Where
               Cāphere
               ,
               Spicknard
               ,
               dainty
               fruits
               ,
               with
               sweet
               Pomgranets
               are
               .
            
             
               Euen
               Spicknard
               ,
               Saffron
               ,
               Calamus
               ,
               &
               Synamon●
               do
               growe
               ,
            
             
               With
               Incense
               ,
               Myrrhe
               and
               Alloes
               ,
               with
               many
               spices
               moe
               .
            
             
               Oh
               Fountaine
               passing
               pure
               ,
               oh
               Well
               of
               life
               most
               deare
               .
            
             
               Oh
               Spring
               of
               loftie
               Libanon
               ,
               of
               water
               christal
               cleare
               .
            
             
               Ye
               North
               and
               Southern
               winds
               vpon
               my
               garden
               blow
               ,
            
             
               That
               the
               sweet
               spice
               that
               is
               therein
               ,
               on
               euery
               side
               may
               flow
               .
            
             
               Unto
               his
               garden
               place
               ,
               my
               Loue
               for
               his
               repast
            
             
               Shall
               walke
               ,
               and
               of
               the
               fruites
               therein
               ,
               shal
               take
               a
               pleasant
               tast
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               fift
               Chapter
               .
            
             
               WIthin
               my
               garden
               plot
               ,
               loe
               ,
               I
               am
               present
               now
               ,
            
             
               I
               gathered
               haue
               the
               Myrrhe
               and
               spice
               ,
            
             
               that
               in
               aboundance
               growe
               :
            
             
               With
               honey
               ,
               milke
               &
               wine
               ,
               I
               haue
               refresht
               me
               here
               .
            
             
               Eat
               ,
               drink
               my
               friends
               ,
               be
               mery
               there
               ,
               with
               harty
               friēdly
               cheare
               .
            
             
               Although
               in
               slumbering
               sleepe
               ,
               it
               seemes
               to
               you
               I
               lay
               ,
            
             
             
               Yet
               heare
               I
               my
               beloued
               knock
               ,
               me
               thinks
               I
               heare
               him
               say
               ,
            
             
               Open
               to
               me
               the
               gate
               my
               Loue
               ,
               my
               hearts
               delight
               ,
            
             
               For
               lot
               ,
               my
               locks
               are
               all
               bedewed
               with
               drizling
               drops
               of
               night
               .
            
             
               My
               garments
               are
               put
               off
               ,
               then
               may
               I
               not
               doo
               so
               ,
            
             
               Shal
               I
               defile
               my
               feet
               I
               washt
               ,
               so
               white
               as
               any
               snow
               .
            
             
               Then
               fast
               euen
               by
               the
               dore
               to
               me
               he
               shew'd
               his
               hand
               ,
            
             
               My
               heart
               was
               then
               enamoured
               ,
               when
               as
               I
               saw
               him
               stand
               .
            
             
               Then
               straight
               waies
               vp
               I
               rose
               ,
               to
               ope
               the
               dore
               with
               speed
               ,
            
             
               My
               handes
               and
               fingers
               dropped
               Myrrhe
               ,
               vpon
               the
               bar
               indeed
               .
            
             
               Then
               opened
               I
               the
               dore
               ,
               vnto
               my
               Loue
               at
               last
               ,
            
             
               But
               all
               in
               vaine
               ,
               for
               why
               ?
               before
               ,
               my
               Loue
               was
               gone
               and
               past
               .
            
             
               There
               sought
               I
               for
               my
               loue
               ,
               then
               could
               I
               crie
               and
               call
               ,
            
             
               But
               him
               I
               could
               not
               find
               ,
               nor
               he
               ,
               nould
               answer
               me
               at
               at
               all
               .
            
             
               The
               watchmen
               found
               me
               then
               ,
               as
               thus
               I
               walk'd
               astray
               ,
            
             
               They
               wounded
               me
               ,
               and
               from
               my
               head
               ,
               my
               vaile
               they
               took
               away
            
             
               Ye
               daughters
               of
               Ierusalem
               ,
               if
               ye
               my
               Loue
               doo
               see
               ,
            
             
               Tell
               him
               that
               I
               am
               sicke
               for
               loue
               ,
               yea
               ,
               tel
               him
               this
               from
               me
               .
            
             
               Thou
               peerelesse
               Gem
               of
               price
               ,
               I
               pray
               thee
               to
               vs
               tell
               ,
            
             
               What
               is
               thy
               Loue
               ,
               what
               may
               he
               be
               ,
               that
               doth
               so
               far
               excell
               ?
            
             
               In
               my
               beloueds
               face
               ,
               the
               Rose
               and
               Lilly
               striue
               ,
            
             
               Among
               ten
               thousand
               men
               not
               one
               ,
               is
               found
               so
               faire
               aliue
               .
            
             
               His
               head
               like
               finest
               gold
               ,
               with
               secret
               sweet
               perfume
               ,
            
             
               His
               curled
               locks
               hang
               all
               as
               black
               ,
               as
               any
               Rauens
               plinne
               .
            
             
               His
               eies
               be
               like
               to
               Doues
               ,
               on
               Riuers
               banks
               below
               ,
            
             
               Ywasht
               with
               milk
               ,
               whose
               collours
               are
               ,
               most
               gallant
               to
               the
               show
               .
            
             
               His
               cheeks
               like
               to
               a
               plot
               ,
               where
               spice
               and
               flowers
               growe
               ,
            
             
               his
               lips
               like
               to
               the
               Lilly
               white
               ,
               frō
               whēce
               pure
               Myrrh
               doth
               flow
               ,
            
             
               His
               hands
               like
               rings
               of
               gold
               ,
               with
               costly
               Chrisalet
               ,
            
             
               His
               belly
               like
               the
               Yuory
               white
               ,
               with
               seemly
               Saphyrs
               set
               .
            
             
               His
               legs
               like
               Pillers
               strong
               ,
               of
               Marble
               set
               in
               gold
               ,
            
             
               His
               countenance
               like
               Libanon
               ,
               or
               Cedars
               to
               behold
               .
            
             
               His
               mouth
               it
               is
               as
               sweet
               ,
               yea
               ,
               sweet
               as
               sweet
               may
               be
               ,
            
             
               This
               is
               my
               Loue
               ,
               ye
               Uirgins
               loe
               ,
               euen
               such
               a
               one
               is
               he
               ▪
            
             
               Thou
               fairest
               of
               vs
               al
               ,
               whether
               is
               thy
               Louer
               gone
               ,
            
             
               Tel
               vs
               ,
               and
               we
               will
               goe
               with
               thee
               ,
               thou
               shalt
               not
               goe
               alone
               ▪
            
          
           
             
             
               The
               sixt
               Chapter
               .
            
             
               DOwne
               to
               his
               garden
               place
               ,
               mine
               own
               true
               Loue
               is
               gone
               ,
            
             
               Among
               the
               Spice
               and
               Lillies
               sweet
               ,
            
             
               to
               walke
               himselfe
               alone
               .
            
             
               True
               am
               I
               to
               my
               Loue
               ,
               and
               he
               my
               louing
               make
               ,
            
             
               Which
               in
               the
               Lillies
               makes
               abode
               ,
               and
               doth
               his
               pleasure
               take
               ,
            
             
               With
               Tirzah
               or
               Ierusalem
               ,
               thy
               beautie
               may
               be
               waide
               ,
            
             
               In
               shew
               like
               to
               an
               Armie
               great
               ,
               whose
               Ensignes
               are
               displaid
               .
            
             
               Oh
               turne
               away
               thine
               eies
               ,
               for
               they
               haue
               wounded
               me
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               haires
               are
               like
               a
               heard
               of
               Goats
               ,
               on
               Gilead
               mount
               that
               be
            
             
               Thy
               teeth
               like
               new
               washt
               sheep
               ,
               returning
               from
               the
               flood
               ,
            
             
               Whereas
               not
               one
               is
               barren
               found
               ,
               but
               beareth
               twins
               a
               good
               ,
            
             
               The
               temples
               of
               thy
               head
               ,
               within
               thy
               locks
               to
               showe
               ,
            
             
               Are
               like
               to
               the
               Pomgranet
               fruit
               ,
               that
               in
               the
               Orchards
               grow
               .
            
             
               Of
               Concubines
               four
               score
               there
               are
               ,
               of
               Queens
               twice
               treble
               ten
            
             
               Of
               Uirgins
               for
               the
               multitude
               ,
               not
               to
               be
               numbred
               then
               .
            
             
               But
               yet
               my
               Doue
               alone
               ,
               and
               vndefiled
               Fere
               ,
            
             
               Her
               mothers
               only
               daughter
               is
               ,
               to
               her
               exceeding
               deare
               .
            
             
               The
               Uirgins
               saw
               my
               Loue
               ,
               and
               they
               haue
               lik'd
               her
               well
               ,
            
             
               The
               Queens
               &
               eke
               the
               Concubines
               ,
               they
               say
               she
               doth
               excell
               .
            
             
               Who
               's
               she
               I
               doo
               behold
               ,
               so
               like
               the
               morning
               cleare
               ,
            
             
               Or
               like
               the
               Moon
               ,
               when
               towards
               the
               ful
               ,
               in
               pride
               she
               doth
               appear
            
             
               Bright
               as
               the
               radiant
               raies
               ,
               that
               from
               the
               Sun
               descend
               ,
            
             
               Or
               like
               an
               Army
               terrible
               ,
               when
               Ensignes
               they
               extend
               .
            
             
               Unto
               the
               nuts
               downe
               will
               I
               goe
               ,
               and
               fruitfull
               valeyes
               lowe
               ,
            
             
               To
               see
               if
               that
               the
               Uine
               doo
               bud
               ,
               and
               the
               Pomgranets
               growe
               .
            
             
               My selfe
               I
               know
               not
               I
               ,
               ne
               nothing
               knew
               I
               then
               ,
            
             
               Let
               me
               be
               like
               a
               chariot
               ,
               euen
               of
               thy
               noble
               men
               .
            
             
               Return
               againe
               ,
               oh
               make
               returne
               ,
               thou
               Shulamite
               so
               deare
               ,
            
             
               Let
               vs
               enioy
               thy
               company
               ,
               I
               pray
               thee
               soiorne
               here
               .
            
             
               What
               see
               you
               in
               the
               Shulamite
               ,
               in
               her
               what
               may
               you
               see
               ,
            
             
               But
               like
               a
               troupe
               of
               warlike
               men
               that
               in
               the
               armies
               be
               .
            
          
           
             
             
               The
               seuenth
               Chapter
               .
            
             
               HOw
               stately
               are
               thy
               steps
               with
               braue
               and
               lofty
               pace
               ,
            
             
               Thou
               daintie
               princesse
               ,
               darling
               deare
               ,
            
             
               with
               comely
               gallant
               grace
               .
            
             
               the
               ioines
               of
               thy
               fair
               thighs
               ,
               the
               which
               so
               straight
               do
               stand
            
             
               Are
               like
               to
               curious
               iewels
               wrought
               ,
               by
               cunning
               workmās
               hand
            
             
               Thy
               nauell
               like
               a
               goblet
               is
               ,
               which
               stil
               with
               wine
               doth
               flowe
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               belly
               like
               an
               heape
               of
               wheat
               ,
               about
               which
               ,
               Lillies
               growe
               .
            
             
               Thy
               breasts
               I
               may
               compare
               like
               to
               two
               litle
               Roes
               ,
            
             
               which
               follow
               on
               their
               mothers
               steps
               ,
               when
               forth
               to
               feed
               she
               goes
               .
            
             
               Thy
               necke
               like
               to
               a
               Tower
               ,
               of
               costly
               Iuory
               fram'd
               ,
            
             
               thine
               eies
               like
               Heshbō
               waters
               clear
               ,
               by
               that
               Bathrabbin
               nam'd
            
             
               Thy
               nose
               like
               Libanon
               Tower
               ,
               most
               seemly
               to
               the
               eie
               ,
            
             
               Which
               towards
               Damascus
               citie
               faire
               ,
               that
               stately
               town
               doth
               ly
               .
            
             
               Thy
               head
               like
               Scarlet
               red
               ,
               thy
               haire
               of
               purple
               huē
               ,
            
             
               The
               King
               in
               thee
               doth
               take
               delight
               ,
               as
               in
               his
               Lady
               true
               .
            
             
               How
               faire
               art
               thou
               my
               Loue
               ,
               and
               seemly
               to
               the
               sight
               ,
            
             
               The
               pleasures
               that
               abound
               in
               thee
               ,
               they
               are
               my
               chiefe
               delight
               :
            
             
               Thy
               stature
               like
               the
               Palme
               ,
               the
               tall
               and
               straightest
               tree
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               brests
               ,
               the
               which
               do
               thee
               adorne
               ,
               most
               like
               to
               clusters
               be
               .
            
             
               Upon
               the
               pleasant
               palme
               ,
               I
               said
               I
               wil
               take
               holde
               ,
            
             
               And
               rest
               vpon
               her
               pleasant
               boughes
               ,
               I
               said
               I
               wil
               be
               bolde
               .
            
             
               Thy
               breasts
               are
               like
               a
               bunch
               of
               grapes
               ,
               on
               the
               most
               fruitful
               vine
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               nose
               in
               smel
               like
               to
               the
               fruit
               ,
               of
               al
               most
               pure
               and
               fine
               ,
            
             
               The
               roofe
               of
               thy
               sweet
               mouth
               ,
               like
               purest
               wine
               doth
               tast
               ,
            
             
               Which
               makes
               the
               very
               aged
               lagh
               ,
               forgetting
               sorrowes
               past
               .
            
             
               I
               am
               vnto
               my
               Loue
               ,
               a
               faithfull
               friendly
               Fere
               ,
            
             
               And
               he
               is
               likewise
               vnto
               me
               ,
               most
               tender
               and
               most
               deare
               .
            
             
               Goe
               we
               into
               the
               field
               ,
               to
               sport
               vs
               in
               the
               plaine
               ,
            
             
               And
               in
               the
               pleasant
               villages
               (
               my
               Loue
               )
               let
               vs
               remaine
               .
            
             
               Then
               early
               will
               we
               rise
               and
               see
               ,
               if
               that
               the
               vine
               do
               flourish
               ,
            
             
               And
               if
               the
               earth
               accordingly
               do
               the
               Pomgranets
               nourish
               .
            
             
               I
               feele
               the
               Mandrakes
               smell
               ,
               within
               our
               gates
               that
               be
               :
            
             
               The
               sweetest
               things
               both
               new
               &
               olde
               (
               my
               Loue
               )
               I
               kept
               for
               thee
               .
            
          
           
             
             
               The
               eight
               Chapter
               .
            
             
               OH
               that
               thou
               weart
               my
               brother
               borne
               ,
            
             
               that
               suckt
               my
               mothers
               breast
               :
            
             
               Then
               sweetly
               would
               I
               kisse
               thy
               lippes
               ,
            
             
               and
               by
               thee
               take
               my
               rest
               .
            
             
               Unto
               my
               mothers
               closet
               sure
               ,
               mine
               own
               Loue
               will
               I
               bring
               ,
            
             
               And
               be
               obedient
               vnto
               him
               in
               euery
               kind
               of
               thing
               .
            
             
               There
               wil
               I
               giue
               to
               thee
               (
               my
               Loue
               )
               the
               daintie
               spiced
               wine
               ,
            
             
               And
               pleasant
               liquor
               that
               distils
               from
               the
               Pomgranet
               fine
               .
            
             
               With
               his
               left
               hand
               he
               shal
               support
               ,
               and
               eke
               my
               head
               vpreare
               ,
            
             
               And
               with
               the
               right
               most
               louingly
               he
               shal
               imbrace
               his
               deare
               .
            
             
               Ye
               daughters
               of
               Ierusalem
               ,
               doo
               not
               my
               Loue
               disease
               ,
            
             
               But
               suffer
               her
               to
               take
               her
               rest
               ,
               so
               long
               as
               she
               shall
               please
               .
            
             
               Who
               's
               that
               which
               from
               the
               wildernes
               ,
               you
               commeth
               frō
               aboue
               ,
            
             
               And
               in
               this
               sort
               familiarly
               dooth
               leane
               vpon
               her
               Loue
               :
            
             
               Under
               a
               pleasant
               aple
               tree
               ,
               from
               whence
               like
               fruit
               doth
               spring
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               mother
               first
               conceiued
               thee
               ,
               euen
               forth
               which
               did
               thee
               bring
            
             
               Let
               it
               be
               like
               a
               priuie
               seale
               ,
               within
               thy
               secret
               heart
               ,
            
             
               Or
               like
               a
               Signet
               on
               thy
               hand
               ,
               thy
               secrets
               to
               impart
               :
            
             
               For
               iealousie
               is
               like
               the
               graue
               ,
               and
               loue
               more
               strong
               than
               death
            
             
               From
               whose
               hot
               brands
               ther
               doth
               proceed
               a
               flaming
               fiery
               breath
            
             
               The
               flouds
               cannot
               alay
               his
               heat
               ,
               nor
               water
               quench
               his
               flame
               ,
            
             
               Neither
               the
               greatest
               treasure
               ,
               can
               counteruaile
               the
               same
               .
            
             
               Our
               litle
               sister
               hath
               no
               breasts
               ,
               what
               shal
               we
               doo
               or
               say
               ,
            
             
               when
               we
               shal
               giue
               her
               to
               her
               Spouse
               ,
               vpon
               her
               wedding
               day
               ?
            
             
               If
               that
               she
               be
               a
               wall
               ,
               on
               that
               foundation
               sure
               ,
            
             
               A
               princely
               pallace
               wil
               we
               build
               ,
               of
               siluer
               passing
               pure
               .
            
             
               And
               if
               she
               be
               a
               doore
               ,
               she
               shall
               inclosed
               be
            
             
               With
               braue
               and
               goodly
               squared
               boords
               ,
               of
               the
               fine
               Cedar
               tree
               .
            
             
               I
               am
               a
               mightie
               wall
               ,
               my
               breasts
               like
               Towers
               hie
               ,
            
             
               Then
               am
               I
               passing
               beautifull
               in
               my
               beloueds
               eie
               .
            
             
               King
               Salomon
               a
               vinyard
               had
               ,
               in
               faire
               Baalhamon
               field
               ,
            
             
               Each
               one
               in
               siluer
               yeerely
               dooth
               ,
               a
               thousand
               peeces
               yeeld
               ,
            
             
               But
               yet
               my
               vineyard
               
                 (
                 Salomon
              
               )
               thy
               vine
               doth
               far
               excell
               ,
            
             
               For
               fruit
               and
               goodnes
               of
               the
               same
               ,
               thou
               know'st
               it
               very
               wel
               .
            
             
               A
               thousand
               siluer
               peeces
               are
               ,
               euen
               yearely
               due
               to
               me
               ,
            
             
             
               Two
               twousand
               likewise
               vnto
               them
               ,
               the
               which
               her
               keepers
               be
               .
            
             
               Oh
               thou
               that
               in
               the
               garden
               dwell'st
               ,
               learne
               me
               thy
               voice
               to
               know
            
             
               That
               I
               may
               listen
               to
               the
               same
               ,
               as
               thy
               companions
               doo
               .
            
             
               Flie
               my
               beloued
               hence
               away
               ,
               and
               be
               thou
               like
               the
               Roe
               ,
            
             
               Or
               as
               the
               Hart
               on
               mountaine
               tops
               ,
               wheron
               sweet
               spices
               growe
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             The
             Song
             of
             Annah
             ,
             for
             the
             bringing
             foorth
             of
             Samuel
             her
             sonne
             .
             The
             second
             Chap.
             of
             the
             first
             booke
             of
             Samuel
             ,
          
           
             MY
             heart
             doth
             in
             the
             Lord
             reioice
             ,
             that
             liuing
             Lord
             of
             might
             ,
          
           
             which
             doth
             his
             seruāts
             horn
             exalt
             ,
             in
             al
             his
             peoples
             sight
             .
          
           
             I
             wil
             reioice
             in
             their
             despight
             ,
          
           
             which
             erst
             haue
             me
             abhord
             ,
          
           
             Because
             that
             my
             saluation
             dependeth
             on
             the
             Lord.
          
           
             None
             is
             so
             holie
             as
             the
             Lord
             ,
             besides
             thee
             none
             there
             are
             :
          
           
             With
             our
             God
             there
             is
             no
             God
             ,
             that
             may
             himselfe
             compare
             .
          
           
             See
             that
             no
             more
             presumptuously
             ,
             ye
             neither
             boast
             nor
             vaunt
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             yet
             vnseemly
             speak
             such
             things
             ,
             so
             proud
             and
             arrogant
             .
          
           
             For
             why
             ?
             the
             counsell
             of
             the
             Lord
             ,
             in
             depth
             cannot
             be
             sought
          
           
             Our
             enterprises
             and
             our
             actes
             ,
             by
             him
             to
             passe
             are
             brought
             .
          
           
             The
             bowe
             is
             broke
             ,
             the
             mightie
             ones
             subuerted
             are
             at
             length
             ,
          
           
             And
             they
             which
             weake
             and
             feeble
             were
             ,
             increased
             are
             in
             strength
          
           
             They
             that
             were
             ful
             &
             had
             great
             store
             ,
             with
             labor
             buy
             their
             bread
          
           
             And
             they
             which
             hungrie
             were
             &
             poore
             ,
             with
             plenty
             now
             are
             fed
             .
          
           
             So
             that
             the
             womb
             which
             barren
             was
             ,
             hath
             many
             children
             born
             ,
          
           
             And
             she
             which
             store
             of
             children
             had
             ,
             is
             left
             now
             all
             forlorne
             .
          
           
             The
             Lord
             doth
             kill
             and
             make
             aliue
             ,
             his
             iudgments
             all
             are
             iust
             ,
          
           
             He
             throweth
             downe
             into
             the
             graue
             ,
             and
             raiseth
             from
             the
             dust
             .
          
           
             The
             Lord
             doth
             make
             both
             rich
             &
             poore
             ,
             he
             al
             our
             thoughts
             doth
             trie
             .
          
           
             He
             bringeth
             low
             &
             eke
             againe
             ,
             exalteth
             vp
             on
             hie
             .
          
           
             He
             raiseth
             vp
             the
             simple
             soule
             ,
             whom
             men
             pusude
             with
             hate
             ,
          
           
             To
             sit
             amongst
             the
             mightie
             ones
             ,
             in
             chaire
             of
             princely
             state
             ,
          
           
             For
             why
             ?
             the
             pillers
             of
             the
             earth
             ,
             he
             placed
             with
             his
             hand
             ,
          
           
             whose
             mighty
             strēgth
             doth
             stil
             support
             ,
             the
             waight
             of
             al
             the
             land
             .
          
           
             He
             wil
             preserue
             his
             Saints
             likewise
             ,
             the
             wicked
             men
             at
             length
          
           
             He
             wil
             confound
             :
             let
             no
             man
             seem
             ,
             to
             glory
             in
             his
             strength
             .
          
           
           
             The
             enemies
             of
             God
             the
             Lord
             ,
             shal
             be
             destroied
             all
             ,
          
           
             From
             heauen
             he
             shal
             thunder
             send
             ,
             that
             on
             their
             heads
             shal
             fall
             .
          
           
             The
             mightie
             Lord
             shall
             iudge
             the
             world
             ,
             &
             giue
             his
             power
             alone
          
           
             Unto
             the
             King
             ,
             and
             shal
             exalt
             his
             owne
             annointed
             one
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             Song
             of
             Ionah
             in
             the
             Whales
             bellie
             .
             In
             the
             second
             Chap.
             of
             Ionah
             .
          
           
             IN
             griefe
             and
             anguish
             of
             my
             heart
             ,
             my
             voice
             I
             did
             extend
             ,
          
           
             Unto
             the
             Lord
             ,
             and
             he
             therto
             ,
             a
             willing
             eare
             did
             lend
             :
          
           
             Euen
             from
             the
             deep
             and
             darkest
             pit
             ,
             &
             the
             infernall
             lake
             ,
          
           
             To
             me
             he
             hath
             bow'd
             down
             his
             eare
             ,
             for
             his
             great
             mercies
             sake
             .
          
           
             For
             thou
             into
             the
             middest
             ,
             of
             surging
             seas
             so
             deepe
          
           
             Hast
             cast
             me
             foorth
             :
             whose
             bottom
             is
             ,
             so
             low
             &
             woondrous
             steep
             .
          
           
             Whose
             mighty
             wallowing
             waues
             ,
             which
             from
             the
             floods
             do
             flow
          
           
             haue
             with
             their
             power
             vp
             swallowed
             me
             ,
             &
             ouerwhelm'd
             me
             tho
             .
          
           
             Then
             said
             I
             ,
             loe
             ,
             I
             am
             exilde
             ,
             from
             presence
             of
             thy
             face
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             wil
             I
             once
             againe
             behold
             ,
             thy
             house
             and
             dwelling
             place
             .
          
           
             The
             waters
             haue
             encompast
             me
             ,
             the
             floods
             inclosde
             me
             round
             ,
          
           
             The
             weeds
             haue
             sore
             encōbred
             me
             ,
             which
             in
             the
             seas
             abound
             .
          
           
             Unto
             the
             valeyes
             down
             I
             went
             ,
             beneath
             the
             hils
             which
             stand
             .
          
           
             The
             earth
             hath
             there
             enuiron'd
             me
             ,
             with
             force
             of
             al
             the
             land
             .
          
           
             Yet
             hast
             thou
             stil
             preserued
             me
             ,
             from
             al
             these
             dangers
             here
             ,
          
           
             And
             brought
             my
             life
             out
             of
             the
             pit
             ,
             oh
             Lord
             my
             God
             so
             deare
             .
          
           
             My
             soule
             consuming
             thus
             with
             care
             ,
             I
             praied
             vnto
             the
             Lord
             ,
          
           
             And
             he
             from
             out
             his
             holie
             place
             ,
             heard
             me
             with
             one
             accord
             ,
          
           
             Who
             to
             vain
             lieng
             vanities
             doth
             whollie
             him
             betake
             ,
          
           
             Doth
             erre
             also
             ,
             Gods
             mercie
             he
             ,
             doth
             vtterly
             forsake
             .
          
           
             But
             I
             wil
             offer
             vnto
             him
             the
             sacrifice
             of
             praise
             ,
          
           
             And
             pay
             my
             vowes
             ,
             ascribing
             thanks
             vnto
             the
             Lord
             alwaies
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             The
             Praier
             of
             Ieremiah
             ,
             bewasling
             the
             captiuitie
             of
             the
             people
             .
             In
             the
             fift
             Chap.
             of
             his
             Lamentations
             .
          
           
             CAl
             vnto
             mind
             oh
             mightie
             Lord
             ,
             the
             wrongs
             we
             daily
             take
          
           
             Consider
             and
             he
             hold
             the
             same
             ,
             for
             thy
             great
             mercies
             sake
             .
          
           
             Our
             lands
             &
             our
             inheritance
             ,
             meere
             strangers
             do
             possesse
             ,
          
           
             The
             alients
             in
             our
             houses
             dwel
             ,
             and
             we
             without
             redresse
             .
          
           
             We
             now
             (
             alas
             )
             are
             fatherlesse
             ,
             &
             stil
             pursude
             with
             hate
             ,
          
           
             Our
             mourning
             mothers
             nowe
             remaine
             in
             wofull
             widdowes
             state
             .
          
           
             We
             buy
             the
             water
             which
             we
             drink
             ,
             such
             is
             our
             grieuous
             want
             ,
          
           
             Likewise
             the
             wood
             euen
             for
             our
             vse
             ,
             that
             we
             our selues
             did
             plant
             .
          
           
             Our
             neckes
             are
             subiect
             to
             the
             yoke
             ,
             of
             persecutions
             thrall
             ,
          
           
             We
             wearied
             out
             with
             cruell
             toile
             ,
             and
             find
             no
             rest
             at
             all
             :
          
           
             Afore
             time
             we
             in
             Egypt
             land
             ,
             and
             in
             Assyria
             serued
             ,
          
           
             For
             food
             our
             hunger
             to
             sustaine
             ,
             least
             that
             we
             should
             haue
             sterued
          
           
             Our
             fathers
             which
             are
             dead
             &
             gone
             ,
             haue
             sinned
             wondrous
             sore
             ,
          
           
             And
             we
             now
             scourg'd
             for
             their
             offence
             ,
             ah
             ,
             woe
             are
             we
             therefore
             .
          
           
             Those
             seruile
             slaues
             which
             bondmen
             be
             ,
             of
             them
             in
             fear
             we
             stand
          
           
             Yet
             no
             man
             doth
             deliuer
             vs
             ,
             from
             cruel
             Cauiues
             hand
             .
          
           
             Our
             liuings
             we
             are
             forc'd
             to
             get
             ,
             in
             perils
             of
             our
             liues
             ,
          
           
             The
             drie
             and
             barren
             wildernesse
             therto
             by
             danger
             driues
             .
          
           
             Our
             skins
             be
             scortcht
             as
             though
             they
             had
             ,
             bin
             in
             an
             ouen
             dride
             ,
          
           
             With
             famine
             ,
             and
             the
             penury
             ,
             which
             here
             we
             doo
             abide
             .
          
           
             Our
             wiues
             and
             maides
             defloured
             are
             ,
             by
             violence
             and
             force
             ,
          
           
             On
             Sion
             ,
             and
             in
             Iuda
             land
             ,
             sans
             pity
             or
             remorce
             .
          
           
             Our
             kings
             by
             cruel
             enimies
             ,
             with
             cordes
             are
             hanged
             vp
             ,
          
           
             Our
             grauest
             ,
             sage
             and
             ancient
             men
             ,
             haue
             tasted
             of
             that
             cup.
          
           
             Our
             yoong
             men
             they
             haue
             put
             to
             sword
             ,
             not
             one
             at
             al
             they
             spare
             ,
          
           
             Our
             litle
             boyes
             vpon
             the
             tree
             ,
             sans
             pitie
             hanged
             are
             .
          
           
             Our
             elders
             sitting
             in
             the
             gates
             ,
             can
             now
             no
             more
             be
             found
             ,
          
           
             Our
             youth
             leaue
             off
             to
             take
             delight
             ,
             in
             musicks
             sacred
             sound
             .
          
           
             The
             ioy
             and
             comfort
             of
             our
             heart
             ,
             away
             is
             fled
             and
             gone
             ,
          
           
             Our
             solace
             is
             with
             sorrow
             mixt
             ,
             our
             mirth
             is
             turn'd
             to
             moue
             .
          
           
             Our
             glory
             now
             is
             laid
             full
             low
             ,
             and
             buried
             in
             the
             ground
             ,
          
           
             Our
             sins
             ful
             sore
             do
             burthen
             vs
             ,
             whose
             greatnes
             doth
             abound
             .
          
           
           
             Oh
             holy
             blessed
             Sion
             hill
             ,
             my
             heart
             is
             woe
             for
             thee
             ,
          
           
             Mine
             eies
             poure
             foorth
             a
             flood
             of
             teares
             ,
             this
             dismal
             day
             to
             see
             .
          
           
             Which
             art
             destroied
             and
             now
             lieth
             wast
             ,
             from
             sacred
             vse
             &
             trade
             .
          
           
             Thy
             holie
             place
             is
             now
             a
             den
             ,
             of
             filthy
             Foxes
             made
             .
          
           
             But
             thou
             the
             euerliuing
             Lord
             ,
             which
             doost
             remaine
             for
             aye
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             seat
             aboue
             the
             firmament
             ,
             full
             sure
             and
             still
             doth
             stay
             .
          
           
             Wherefore
             dost
             thou
             forsake
             thine
             owne
             ?
             shal
             we
             forgotten
             be
             ?
          
           
             Turne
             vs
             good
             Lord
             ,
             and
             so
             we
             shall
             be
             turned
             vnto
             thee
             .
          
           
             Lord
             cal
             vs
             home
             from
             our
             erile
             ,
             to
             place
             of
             our
             abode
             ,
          
           
             Thou
             long
             inough
             hast
             punisht
             vs
             ,
             oh
             Lord
             ,
             now
             spare
             thy
             rod.
             
          
        
         
           
             The
             Song
             of
             Deborah
             and
             Baracke
             .
             The
             fift
             Chap.
             of
             Iudges
             .
          
           
             PRaise
             ye
             the
             Lord
             ,
             the
             which
             reuenge
          
           
             on
             Israels
             wrongs
             doth
             take
             :
          
           
             Likewise
             for
             those
             which
             offered
             vp
          
           
             themselues
             for
             Israels
             sake
             .
          
           
             Heare
             this
             ,
             ye
             kings
             ,
             ye
             princes
             al
             ,
             giue
             eare
             with
             one
             accord
             ,
          
           
             I
             wil
             giue
             thanks
             ,
             yea
             sing
             the
             praise
             ,
             of
             Israels
             liuing
             Lord.
          
           
             When
             thou
             departedst
             (
             Lord
             )
             from
             Seir
             ,
             and
             out
             of
             Edom
             field
             ,
          
           
             The
             earth
             gan
             quake
             ,
             the
             heauens
             rain
             ,
             the
             cloudes
             their
             water
             yeeld
          
           
             the
             moūtains
             hie
             before
             the
             Lord
             ,
             haue
             melted
             euery
             del
             ,
          
           
             As
             Synay
             did
             in
             presence
             of
             ,
             the
             Lord
             of
             Israell
             .
          
           
             In
             time
             of
             
               Sangar
               ,
               Anaths
            
             sonne
             ,
             and
             in
             old
             Iaels
             daies
             ,
          
           
             the
             paths
             were
             al
             vnoccupied
             ,
             men
             sought
             forth
             vnknown
             waies
             ,
          
           
             The
             townes
             &
             cities
             there
             lay
             wast
             ,
             and
             to
             decay
             they
             fel
             ,
          
           
             Til
             Deborah
             ,
             a
             matrone
             graue
             ,
             became
             in
             Israell
             .
          
           
             They
             chose
             thē
             gods
             ,
             then
             garboils
             did
             ,
             within
             their
             gates
             abcūd
          
           
             A
             spear
             or
             shield
             in
             Israel
             ,
             there
             was
             not
             to
             be
             found
             .
          
           
             In
             those
             which
             gouern
             Israel
             ,
             my
             heart
             doth
             take
             delight
             ,
          
           
             And
             in
             the
             valiant
             people
             there
             ,
             oh
             ,
             praise
             the
             Lord
             of
             might
             .
          
           
             Speak
             ye
             that
             on
             white
             Asses
             ride
             ,
             &
             that
             by
             Midden
             dwell
             .
          
           
             And
             ye
             that
             daily
             trade
             the
             waies
             ,
             see
             forth
             your
             minds
             you
             tell
             .
          
           
             The
             clattering
             noise
             of
             archers
             shot
             ,
             when
             as
             the
             arrowes
             flew
             ,
          
           
             Appeased
             was
             amongst
             the
             sort
             ,
             which
             water
             daily
             drew
             .
          
           
             The
             righteousnesse
             of
             God
             the
             Lord
             ,
             shal
             be
             declared
             there
             ,
          
           
           
             And
             likewise
             Israels
             righteousnes
             ,
             which
             worship
             him
             in
             feare
             .
          
           
             The
             people
             with
             reioicing
             hearts
             ,
             then
             all
             with
             one
             consent
             :
          
           
             I
             mean
             the
             Lords
             inheritance
             ,
             vnto
             the
             gates
             they
             went
             :
          
           
             Deborah
             vp
             ,
             arise
             and
             sing
             ,
             a
             sweet
             and
             worthy
             song
             ,
          
           
             Baracke
             ,
             lead
             them
             as
             Captiues
             forth
             ,
             which
             vnto
             thee
             belong
             .
          
           
             For
             they
             which
             at
             this
             day
             remaine
             ,
             do
             rule
             like
             Lords
             alone
             ,
          
           
             The
             Lord
             ouer
             the
             mightie
             ones
             ,
             giues
             me
             dominion
             .
          
           
             The
             roots
             of
             Ephraim
             arose
             ,
             gainst
             Amalecke
             to
             fight
             .
          
           
             And
             so
             likewise
             did
             Beniamin
             ,
             with
             all
             their
             power
             and
             might
             .
          
           
             From
             Macher
             came
             a
             company
             ,
             which
             chiefest
             sway
             did
             beare
             ,
          
           
             From
             Zebulon
             ,
             which
             cunning
             clarks
             ,
             &
             famous
             writers
             were
             ,
          
           
             The
             kings
             which
             came
             of
             Isacher
             were
             with
             Deborah
             tho
             ,
          
           
             Yea
             Isacher
             and
             Barack
             both
             attend
             on
             her
             also
             .
          
           
             He
             was
             dismounted
             in
             the
             vale
             ,
             for
             the
             deuisions
             sake
             ,
          
           
             Of
             Ruben
             the
             people
             there
             ,
             great
             lamentation
             make
             .
          
           
             Gilead
             by
             Iorden
             made
             abode
             ,
             and
             Dan
             on
             ship
             boord
             lay
             ,
          
           
             And
             Asher
             in
             the
             Desart
             he
             ,
             vpon
             the
             shore
             doth
             stay
             .
          
           
             They
             of
             Zebulon
             and
             Nepthaly
             ,
             like
             worthy
             valiant
             wightes
             ,
          
           
             Before
             their
             foes
             euen
             in
             the
             field
             ,
             aduanc'd
             themselues
             in
             fight
             .
          
           
             The
             kings
             themselues
             in
             person
             fought
             :
             the
             kings
             of
             Canaan
             ,
          
           
             In
             Tanach
             plaine
             ,
             wheras
             the
             streame
             ,
             of
             swift
             Megido
             ran
             .
          
           
             No
             pay
             ,
             no
             hyer
             ,
             ne
             coine
             at
             all
             ,
             not
             one
             did
             seem
             to
             take
             ,
          
           
             They
             serued
             not
             for
             greedy
             gain
             ,
             nor
             filthy
             lucre
             sake
             .
          
           
             The
             heauens
             hy
             and
             heauenly
             powers
             ,
             these
             things
             to
             passe
             haue
             brought
          
           
             The
             stars
             against
             proud
             Sifera
             ,
             euen
             in
             their
             course
             haue
             fought
          
           
             The
             stream
             of
             kishons
             anciēt
             brook
             ,
             hath
             ouerwhelm'd
             thē
             there
          
           
             My
             soule
             ,
             sith
             thou
             hast
             done
             thy
             part
             ,
             be
             now
             of
             harty
             cheare
             .
          
           
             The
             hardened
             hooues
             of
             barbed
             horse
             ,
             were
             al
             in
             peeces
             broke
             ,
          
           
             By
             force
             of
             mightie
             men
             which
             met
             ,
             with
             many
             a
             sturdy
             stroke
             .
          
           
             The
             Angel
             hath
             pronounc'd
             a
             curse
             ,
             which
             shal
             on
             Meroz
             fall
             ,
          
           
             And
             those
             that
             doo
             inhabite
             there
             ,
             a
             curse
             light
             on
             them
             all
             .
          
           
             Because
             they
             put
             not
             forth
             their
             hands
             to
             help
             the
             liuing
             Lord
             ,
          
           
             Against
             the
             proud
             and
             mighty
             ones
             ,
             which
             haue
             his
             truth
             abhord
          
           
             Iaell
             the
             Renit
             Hebers
             wife
             ,
             most
             happy
             shal
             be
             blest
             ,
          
           
             Aboue
             al
             other
             women
             there
             ,
             which
             in
             the
             tents
             do
             rest
             .
          
           
             He
             asked
             water
             for
             to
             drink
             ,
             she
             gaue
             sweet
             milk
             to
             him
             ,
          
           
             Yea
             butter
             in
             a
             lordly
             dish
             ,
             which
             was
             full
             tricke
             and
             trim
             .
          
           
             her
             left
             hand
             to
             the
             naile
             she
             put
             ,
             her
             right
             the
             hammer
             wrought
             .
          
           
           
             Wherewith
             presumptuous
             Sisera
             vnto
             his
             death
             she
             brought
             ,
          
           
             And
             from
             his
             corps
             his
             head
             she
             cut
             ,
             with
             mortal
             deadly
             wound
             ,
          
           
             When
             through
             the
             tēples
             of
             his
             head
             ,
             she
             naild
             him
             to
             the
             groūd
             .
          
           
             He
             bowed
             then
             vnto
             the
             earth
             ,
             and
             at
             her
             feet
             can
             fall
             ,
          
           
             And
             where
             he
             fell
             there
             still
             he
             lay
             ,
             bereau'd
             of
             sences
             all
             .
          
           
             The
             mother
             then
             of
             Sisera
             ,
             in
             window
             where
             she
             lay
             ,
          
           
             Doth
             marueil
             much
             that
             this
             her
             sonne
             doth
             make
             so
             long
             a
             stay
             .
          
           
             Her
             Ladies
             then
             ,
             they
             hearing
             that
             ,
             make
             answer
             by
             and
             by
             ,
          
           
             Yea
             ,
             to
             her
             speaches
             past
             before
             ,
             her selfe
             doth
             this
             replie
             :
          
           
             Hath
             he
             not
             gotten
             mightie
             spoiles
             ,
             and
             now
             diuision
             makes
             ,
          
           
             Each
             one
             a
             Damosell
             hath
             or
             twaine
             ,
             which
             he
             as
             captiue
             takes
             .
          
           
             Sisera
             of
             costly
             coloured
             robes
             ,
             ful
             rich
             ,
             with
             needle
             wrought
             ,
          
           
             Hath
             got
             a
             pray
             ,
             which
             vnto
             him
             ,
             as
             chiefest
             spoiles
             are
             brought
             .
          
           
             So
             let
             thine
             enemies
             (
             O
             Lord
             )
             sustaine
             and
             suffer
             blame
             ,
          
           
             And
             let
             thy
             chosen
             blessed
             ones
             ,
             that
             loue
             and
             feare
             thy
             name
             ,
          
           
             Be
             like
             the
             Son
             ,
             when
             in
             the
             morne
             ,
             his
             glorie
             doth
             increase
             :
          
           
             Or
             like
             the
             land
             ,
             which
             many
             a
             yeare
             ,
             hath
             bin
             in
             rest
             and
             peace
             .
          
        
         
           
             An
             other
             Song
             of
             the
             faithfull
             ,
             for
             the
             mercies
             of
             God.
             In
             the
             xii
             .
             Chap.
             of
             the
             prophesie
             of
             Isaiah
             .
          
           
             
               OH
               liuing
               Lord
               ,
               I
               still
               will
               laude
               thy
               name
               ,
            
             
               for
               though
               thou
               wert
               offended
               once
               with
               me
               :
            
             
               Thy
               heauy
               wrath
               is
               turn'd
               from
               me
               againe
               ,
            
             
               and
               graciously
               thou
               now
               doost
               comfort
               mee
               .
            
          
           
             
               Behold
               ,
               the
               Lord
               is
               my
               saluation
               ,
            
             
               I
               trust
               in
               him
               ,
               and
               feare
               not
               any
               power
               :
            
             
               He
               is
               my
               song
               ,
               the
               strength
               I
               leaue
               vpon
               ,
            
             
               the
               Lord
               God
               is
               my
               louing
               Sauiour
               .
            
          
           
             
               Therefore
               with
               ioy
               out
               of
               the
               well
               of
               life
               ,
            
             
               draw
               foorth
               sweet
               water
               ,
               which
               it
               dooth
               affoord
               :
            
             
               And
               in
               the
               day
               of
               trouble
               and
               of
               strife
               ,
            
             
               cal
               on
               the
               name
               of
               God
               the
               liuing
               Lord.
               
            
          
           
             
             
               Extol
               his
               works
               and
               woonders
               to
               the
               sunne
               ,
            
             
               vnto
               al
               people
               let
               his
               praise
               be
               showne
               :
            
             
               Record
               in
               song
               the
               meruails
               he
               hath
               done
               ,
            
             
               and
               let
               his
               glorie
               through
               the
               world
               be
               blowne
               .
            
          
           
             
               Crie
               out
               aloud
               and
               shout
               on
               Sion
               hill
               ,
            
             
               I
               giue
               thee
               charge
               that
               this
               proclaimed
               be
               :
            
             
               The
               great
               and
               mightie
               king
               of
               Israell
               ,
            
             
               now
               onely
               dwelleth
               in
               the
               midst
               of
               thee
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             A
             Song
             of
             the
             faithfull
             .
             In
             the
             third
             Chap.
             of
             the
             prophesie
             of
             Habacucke
             .
          
           
             
               LOrd
               ,
               at
               thy
               voice
               ,
               my
               heart
               for
               feare
               hath
               trembled
               ,
            
             
               Unto
               the
               world
               (
               Lord
               )
               let
               thy
               workes
               be
               showen
               :
            
             
               In
               these
               our
               daies
               now
               let
               thy
               power
               be
               knowen
               ,
            
             
               And
               yet
               in
               wrath
               let
               mercie
               be
               remembred
               .
            
          
           
             
               From
               Teman
               loe
               ,
               our
               God
               you
               may
               behold
               ,
            
             
               The
               holie
               one
               from
               Paran
               mount
               so
               hie
               :
            
             
               His
               glorie
               hath
               cleane
               couered
               the
               Skie
               ,
            
             
               And
               in
               the
               earth
               his
               praises
               be
               inrolde
               .
            
          
           
             
               His
               shining
               was
               more
               clearer
               than
               the
               light
               ,
            
             
               And
               from
               his
               hands
               a
               fulnesse
               did
               proceed
               ,
            
             
               Which
               did
               contain
               his
               wrath
               and
               power
               indeed
               ,
            
             
               Consuming
               plagues
               and
               fire
               were
               in
               his
               sight
               .
            
          
           
             
               He
               stood
               aloft
               and
               compassed
               the
               land
               ,
            
             
               And
               of
               the
               Nations
               doth
               defusion
               make
            
             
               The
               mountains
               rent
               ,
               the
               hilles
               for
               feare
               did
               quake
               ,
            
             
               His
               vnknown
               pathes
               no
               man
               may
               vnderstand
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               Morians
               tentes
               euen
               for
               their
               wickednes
               ,
            
             
               I
               might
               behold
               the
               land
               of
               Midian
               :
            
             
             
               Amaz'd
               and
               trembling
               like
               vnto
               a
               man
               ,
            
             
               Forsaken
               quite
               ,
               and
               left
               in
               great
               distresse
               :
            
          
           
             
               What
               ,
               did
               the
               riuers
               moue
               the
               Lord
               to
               ire
               ?
            
             
               Or
               did
               the
               floods
               his
               Maiesty
               displease
               :
            
             
               Or
               was
               the
               Lord
               offended
               with
               the
               seas
               ,
            
             
               That
               thou
               camest
               forth
               in
               chariot
               hot
               as
               fire
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thy
               force
               and
               power
               thou
               freely
               didst
               relate
               ,
            
             
               Unto
               the
               tribes
               thy
               oath
               doth
               surely
               stand
               ,
            
             
               And
               by
               thy
               strength
               thou
               didst
               deuide
               the
               land
               ,
            
             
               And
               from
               the
               earth
               the
               riuers
               seperate
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               mountaines
               saw
               ,
               and
               trembled
               for
               feare
               ,
            
             
               The
               sturdy
               streame
               ,
               with
               speed
               foorth
               passed
               by
               ,
            
             
               The
               mighty
               depthes
               shout
               out
               a
               hideous
               crie
               ,
            
             
               And
               then
               aloft
               their
               waues
               they
               did
               vpreare
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               Sun
               and
               Moon
               amid
               their
               course
               stood
               still
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               speares
               and
               arrowes
               forth
               with
               shining
               went
               ,
            
             
               Thou
               spoilest
               the
               land
               ,
               being
               to
               anger
               bent
               ,
            
             
               And
               in
               displeasure
               thou
               didst
               slay
               and
               kill
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thou
               wentest
               foorth
               for
               thine
               owne
               chosens
               sake
               ,
            
             
               For
               the
               sauegard
               of
               thine
               annointed
               one
               :
            
             
               The
               house
               of
               wicked
               men
               is
               ouerthrowne
               ,
            
             
               And
               their
               foundations
               now
               goe
               all
               to
               wracke
               .
            
          
           
             
               Their
               townes
               thou
               strikest
               by
               thy
               mightie
               power
               ,
            
             
               With
               their
               own
               weapons
               ,
               made
               for
               their
               defence
               :
            
             
               Who
               like
               a
               whyrl-wind
               came
               with
               the
               pretence
               ,
            
             
               The
               poore
               and
               simple
               man
               quite
               to
               deuoure
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thou
               madest
               thy
               horse
               on
               seas
               to
               gallop
               fast
               .
            
             
               Upon
               the
               waues
               thou
               ridest
               here
               and
               there
               :
            
             
               My
               intrals
               trembled
               then
               for
               verie
               feare
               ,
            
             
               And
               at
               thy
               voice
               ,
               my
               lips
               shooke
               at
               the
               last
               .
            
          
           
             
             
               Griefe
               pierc'd
               my
               bones
               ,
               and
               feare
               did
               me
               annoy
               ,
            
             
               In
               time
               of
               trouble
               ,
               where
               I
               might
               find
               rest
               :
            
             
               For
               to
               reuenge
               ,
               when
               once
               the
               Lord
               is
               prest
               ,
            
             
               With
               plagues
               he
               wil
               the
               people
               quite
               destroy
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               fig-tree
               now
               no
               more
               shall
               sprout
               nor
               flourish
               ,
            
             
               The
               pleasant
               vine
               no
               more
               with
               grapes
               abound
               :
            
             
               No
               pleasure
               in
               the
               citie
               shall
               be
               found
               :
            
             
               The
               field
               no
               more
               her
               fruit
               shal
               feed
               nor
               nourish
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               sheep
               shall
               now
               be
               taken
               from
               the
               fold
               ,
            
             
               In
               stall
               of
               Bullocks
               there
               shall
               be
               no
               choice
               .
            
             
               Yet
               in
               the
               Lord
               my
               Sauiour
               I
               reioice
               ,
            
             
               My
               hope
               in
               God
               yet
               wil
               I
               surely
               hold
               .
            
          
           
             
               God
               is
               my
               strength
               ,
               the
               Lord
               my
               only
               stay
               ,
            
             
               My
               feet
               for
               swiftnesse
               ,
               it
               is
               he
               will
               make
            
             
               Like
               to
               the
               Hinds
               ,
               who
               none
               in
               course
               can
               take
               :
            
             
               Upon
               high
               places
               he
               will
               make
               me
               way
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             A
             Song
             of
             thankes
             to
             God
             ,
             in
             that
             hee
             sheweth
             himselfe
             Iudge
             of
             the
             world
             ,
             in
             punishing
             the
             wicked
             ,
             and
             maintaining
             the
             godlie
             .
             In
             the
             xv
             .
             Chap.
             of
             the
             prophesie
             of
             Isaiah
             .
          
           
             
               OH
               Lord
               my
               God
               ,
               with
               praise
               I
               wil
               perseuer
            
             
               Thy
               blessed
               name
               in
               song
               I
               wil
               record
               :
            
             
               for
               the
               great
               wonders
               thou
               hast
               done
               O
               lord
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               trueth
               and
               counsels
               haue
               bene
               certain
               euer
               .
            
          
           
             
               A
               mightie
               citie
               thou
               makest
               ruinat
               .
            
             
               The
               strongest
               townes
               thou
               bringest
               to
               decay
               :
            
             
               A
               place
               where
               strangers
               vsually
               do
               stay
               ,
            
             
               And
               shall
               not
               be
               reduc'd
               to
               former
               state
               .
            
          
           
             
             
               The
               proudest
               people
               therefore
               stoupe
               to
               thee
               ,
            
             
               The
               strongest
               cities
               haue
               thee
               still
               in
               feare
               :
            
             
               Thou
               strengthnest
               the
               poore
               man
               in
               dispaire
               :
            
             
               And
               helpest
               the
               needie
               in
               necessitie
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thou
               art
               a
               sure
               refuge
               against
               a
               shower
               ,
            
             
               A
               shadow
               which
               doth
               from
               the
               heat
               defend
               :
            
             
               The
               raging
               blasts
               the
               mighty
               forth
               doth
               send
               ,
            
             
               Is
               like
               a
               storme
               which
               shakes
               the
               stateliest
               tower
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thou
               shalt
               abate
               the
               forraine
               strangers
               pride
               ,
            
             
               Like
               as
               the
               heat
               doth
               drie
               the
               moistest
               place
               ,
            
             
               The
               glorie
               of
               the
               proud
               thou
               shalt
               deface
               .
            
             
               Like
               as
               the
               cloudes
               the
               sunny
               beames
               doo
               hide
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               Lord
               of
               hostes
               shal
               in
               this
               mount
               prouide
               ,
            
             
               And
               to
               his
               people
               here
               shal
               make
               a
               feast
               ,
            
             
               Of
               fatted
               things
               and
               dainties
               of
               the
               best
               ,
            
             
               Of
               Marrow
               and
               wines
               finely
               purified
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               in
               this
               Mountaine
               by
               his
               mightie
               hand
               ,
            
             
               That
               same
               dark
               cloud
               the
               Lord
               wil
               cleane
               destroy
               ,
            
             
               Euen
               with
               the
               vaile
               which
               doth
               his
               folke
               annoy
               ,
            
             
               And
               death
               no
               more
               before
               his
               face
               shall
               stand
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               Lord
               will
               wipe
               out
               of
               his
               chosens
               eies
               ,
            
             
               The
               teares
               which
               doo
               their
               faces
               so
               distaine
               :
            
             
               And
               their
               rebuke
               shal
               now
               no
               more
               remaine
               ,
            
             
               Thus
               saith
               the
               Lord
               ,
               these
               be
               his
               promises
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               men
               shal
               say
               (
               then
               )
               loe
               ,
               this
               same
               is
               he
               ,
            
             
               This
               is
               our
               God
               ,
               on
               whom
               we
               did
               attend
               ,
            
             
               This
               is
               the
               Lord
               that
               will
               vs
               stil
               defend
               ,
            
             
               We
               will
               be
               glad
               and
               ioyfull
               (
               Lord
               )
               in
               thee
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thy
               hand
               (
               oh
               Lord
               )
               here
               in
               this
               mount
               shall
               rest
               ,
            
             
               And
               cursed
               Moab
               shall
               by
               thee
               be
               beaten
               ,
            
             
             
             
             
             
             
               As
               in
               thy
               iudgment
               thou
               of
               long
               doost
               threaten
               .
            
             
               As
               in
               Mamena
               straw
               of
               men
               is
               thresht
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               ouer
               them
               the
               Lord
               his
               hand
               shal
               holde
               .
            
             
               As
               he
               that
               swimmeth
               ,
               stretcheth
               him
               at
               length
               ,
            
             
               And
               by
               his
               power
               and
               by
               his
               mighty
               strength
               ,
            
             
               The
               proud
               and
               stout
               by
               him
               shal
               be
               controlde
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thy
               highest
               walles
               and
               towers
               of
               all
               thy
               trust
               ,
            
             
               He
               shall
               bring
               downe
               and
               lay
               them
               all
               full
               lowe
               ,
            
             
               Unto
               the
               ground
               his
               hand
               shall
               make
               them
               bow
               ,
            
             
               And
               lay
               thy
               pride
               and
               glorie
               in
               the
               dust
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             An
             other
             Song
             of
             the
             faithfull
             ,
             wherein
             is
             declared
             in
             what
             consisteth
             the
             saluation
             of
             the
             Church
             .
             In
             the
             xvi
             .
             Chap.
             of
             the
             prophesie
             of
             Isaiah
             .
          
           
             
               ANd
               in
               that
               day
               ,
               this
               same
               shal
               be
               our
               song
               ,
            
             
               In
               Iuda
               land
               this
               shall
               be
               sung
               and
               said
               ,
            
             
               We
               haue
               a
               citie
               which
               is
               woondrous
               strong
               ,
            
             
               And
               for
               the
               walles
               ,
               the
               Lord
               himself
               our
               aid
               .
            
          
           
             
               Open
               the
               gates
               ,
               yea
               set
               them
               open
               wide
               ,
            
             
               And
               let
               the
               godly
               and
               the
               righteous
               passe
               :
            
             
               Yea
               let
               them
               enter
               ,
               and
               therein
               abide
               ,
            
             
               Which
               keepe
               his
               lawes
               ,
               and
               do
               his
               trueth
               imbrace
               :
            
          
           
             
               And
               in
               thy
               iudgment
               thou
               wilt
               sure
               preserue
               ,
            
             
               In
               perfect
               peace
               those
               which
               doo
               trust
               in
               thee
               :
            
             
               Trust
               in
               the
               Lord
               ,
               which
               dooth
               all
               trust
               deserue
               ,
            
             
               He
               is
               thy
               strength
               ,
               and
               none
               but
               onelie
               he
               .
            
          
           
             
               He
               will
               bring
               downe
               the
               proud
               that
               looke
               so
               hie
               ,
            
             
               The
               stateliest
               buildings
               he
               wil
               soone
               abase
               :
            
             
               And
               make
               them
               euen
               with
               the
               ground
               to
               lie
               ,
            
             
               And
               vnto
               dust
               he
               will
               their
               pride
               deface
               .
            
          
           
             
             
               It
               shall
               be
               troden
               to
               the
               verie
               ground
               ,
            
             
               The
               poore
               and
               needy
               downe
               the
               same
               shal
               tread
               :
            
             
               The
               iust
               mans
               way
               in
               righteousnes
               is
               found
               ,
            
             
               Into
               a
               path
               most
               plaine
               thou
               wilt
               him
               lead
               .
            
          
           
             
               But
               we
               haue
               waited
               long
               for
               thee
               ,
               oh
               Lord
            
             
               And
               in
               thy
               way
               of
               iudgment
               we
               do
               rest
               :
            
             
               Our
               soules
               doth
               ioy
               thy
               name
               still
               to
               record
               ,
            
             
               And
               thy
               remembrance
               doth
               content
               vs
               best
               .
            
          
           
             
               My
               soule
               hath
               long'd
               for
               thee
               (
               oh
               Lord
               )
               by
               night
               ,
            
             
               And
               in
               the
               morn
               my
               spirit
               for
               thee
               hath
               sought
               :
            
             
               Thy
               iudgments
               to
               the
               earth
               giue
               such
               a
               light
               ,
            
             
               As
               al
               the
               world
               by
               them
               thy
               trueth
               is
               taught
               .
            
          
           
             
               But
               shew
               thy
               mercie
               to
               the
               wicked
               man
               ,
            
             
               He
               wil
               not
               learne
               thy
               righteousnes
               ,
               to
               know
               ,
            
             
               His
               chiefe
               delight
               is
               still
               to
               curse
               and
               ban
               ,
            
             
               And
               vnto
               thee
               ,
               himselfe
               he
               will
               not
               bow
               .
            
          
           
             
               They
               doo
               not
               once
               at
               all
               regard
               thy
               power
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               peoples
               zeale
               shall
               let
               them
               see
               their
               shame
               ,
            
             
               But
               with
               a
               fire
               thou
               shalt
               thy
               foes
               deuoure
               ,
            
             
               And
               cleane
               consume
               them
               with
               a
               burning
               flame
               .
            
          
           
             
               With
               peace
               thou
               wilt
               preserue
               vs
               (
               Lord
               )
               alone
               ,
            
             
               For
               thou
               hast
               wrought
               great
               woonders
               for
               our
               sake
            
             
               And
               other
               Gods
               beside
               thee
               haue
               we
               none
               :
            
             
               Only
               in
               thee
               we
               all
               our
               comfort
               take
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               dead
               and
               such
               as
               sleep
               within
               the
               graue
               ,
            
             
               Shal
               giue
               no
               glorie
               ,
               nor
               yeeld
               praise
               to
               thee
               :
            
             
               Which
               here
               on
               earth
               no
               place
               nor
               being
               haue
               ,
            
             
               And
               thou
               hast
               rooted
               out
               of
               memorie
               .
            
          
           
             
               Oh
               Lord
               thou
               doost
               this
               nation
               multiply
               ,
            
             
               Thou
               Lord
               hast
               blest
               this
               nation
               with
               increase
               :
            
             
             
               Thou
               art
               most
               glorious
               in
               thy
               maiesty
               ,
            
             
               Thou
               hast
               inlarg'd
               the
               earth
               with
               perfect
               peace
               .
            
          
           
             
               We
               cride
               to
               thee
               ,
               and
               oft
               our
               hands
               did
               wring
               ,
            
             
               When
               we
               haue
               seen
               thee
               bent
               to
               punishment
               .
            
             
               Like
               to
               a
               woman
               in
               childbyrth
               traueiling
               ,
            
             
               Euen
               so
               in
               paine
               we
               mourne
               and
               doo
               lament
               .
            
          
           
             
               We
               haue
               conceiu'd
               and
               laboured
               with
               paine
               ,
            
             
               But
               only
               wind
               at
               last
               we
               forth
               haue
               brought
               :
            
             
               Upon
               the
               earth
               no
               hope
               there
               doth
               remaine
               ,
            
             
               The
               wicked
               world
               likewise
               auailes
               vs
               nought
               .
            
          
           
             
               The
               dead
               shal
               liue
               ,
               and
               such
               as
               sleep
               in
               graue
            
             
               With
               their
               own
               bodies
               once
               shal
               rise
               againe
               :
            
             
               Sing
               ye
               ,
               that
               in
               the
               dust
               your
               dwelling
               haue
               ,
            
             
               The
               earth
               no
               more
               her
               bodies
               shall
               retaine
               .
            
          
           
             
               Come
               ,
               come
               my
               people
               to
               my
               chamber
               here
               ,
            
             
               And
               shut
               the
               doores
               vp
               surely
               after
               thee
               :
            
             
               Hide
               thou
               thy selfe
               ,
               and
               doo
               not
               once
               appeare
               ,
            
             
               Nor
               let
               thine
               eies
               mine
               indignation
               see
               .
            
          
           
             
               For
               from
               aboue
               the
               Lord
               is
               now
               dispos'd
            
             
               To
               scourge
               the
               sinnes
               that
               in
               the
               world
               remaine
               :
            
             
               His
               seruants
               blood
               in
               earth
               shal
               be
               disclosde
               ,
            
             
               And
               she
               shal
               now
               yeeld
               vp
               her
               people
               slaine
               .
            
          
        
         
           Finis
           .
        
      
       
         
           Hereafter
           follovve
           certain
           other
           Songs
           and
           Praiers
           of
           godly
           men
           and
           women
           ,
           out
           of
           the
           Bookes
           of
           Apocripha
           .
        
         
           
           
             The
             Praier
             of
             Iudith
             ,
             for
             the
             deliuerance
             of
             the
             people
             .
             In
             the
             ix
             .
             Chap.
             of
             the
             book
             of
             Iudith
             .
          
           
             OH
             Lord
             ,
             the
             God
             of
             Simeon
             ,
          
           
             my
             soueraigne
             Father
             deare
             :
          
           
             To
             whom
             thou
             gauest
             strength
             and
             might
             ,
          
           
             the
             sword
             in
             hand
             to
             beare
             .
          
           
             To
             take
             reuenge
             on
             those
             which
             first
             ,
             the
             maidens
             wombe
             did
             came
             ,
          
           
             And
             spoiled
             her
             virginitie
             ,
             with
             great
             reproch
             and
             shame
             .
          
           
             For
             which
             offence
             ,
             thou
             gauest
             vp
             ,
             their
             princes
             to
             be
             slaine
             .
          
           
             so
             that
             their
             wounds
             with
             gory
             blood
             ,
             their
             heds
             did
             all
             distain
             .
          
           
             Their
             seruāts
             with
             their
             lords
             ech
             one
             ,
             haue
             felt
             thy
             wrath
             alike
          
           
             who
             sitting
             in
             their
             roial
             seat
             ,
             thou
             sparest
             not
             to
             strike
             .
          
           
             Their
             wiues
             ,
             their
             daughters
             ,
             &
             their
             goods
             ,
             thou
             gau'st
             for
             thy
             behoue
          
           
             As
             prais
             ,
             as
             captiues
             ,
             &
             as
             spoiles
             ,
             to
             those
             whō
             thou
             didst
             loue
             .
          
           
             who
             modu'd
             with
             zeale
             ,
             could
             not
             abide
             ,
             their
             blood
             defil'd
             to
             see
             ,
          
           
             Then
             heare
             me
             Lord
             ,
             a
             widow
             poore
             ,
             which
             here
             do
             cal
             to
             thee
             .
          
           
             things
             past
             ,
             &
             things
             not
             yet
             discern'd
             ,
             thy
             prouidence
             hath
             wrought
             ,
          
           
             Things
             present
             &
             the
             things
             to
             come
             ,
             by
             thee
             to
             passe
             are
             brought
             .
          
           
             Each
             thing
             is
             present
             at
             thy
             call
             ,
             thy
             wisdome
             doth
             deuise
             ,
          
           
             Thy
             secret
             iudgments
             long
             before
             ,
             thy
             knowledge
             doth
             comprise
             .
          
           
             Th'Assirians
             now
             in
             multitude
             ,
             a
             mighty
             number
             are
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             horsmen
             on
             their
             barbed
             horse
             ,
             themselues
             to
             war
             prepare
             .
          
           
             Their
             hope
             in
             footmen
             doth
             consist
             ,
             in
             sling
             ,
             in
             speare
             and
             shield
             ,
          
           
             They
             know
             not
             thee
             to
             be
             the
             Lord
             ,
             whose
             force
             doth
             win
             the
             field
             .
          
           
             Let
             all
             their
             force
             ,
             their
             strength
             &
             power
             ,
             be
             by
             thy
             might
             abated
             ,
          
           
             Who
             vow
             thy
             Temple
             to
             defile
             ,
             which
             thou
             hast
             consecrated
             .
          
           
             Yea
             ,
             to
             pollute
             thy
             Tabernacle
             ,
             thy
             house
             and
             holy
             place
             ,
          
           
             And
             with
             their
             instruments
             of
             war
             ,
             thine
             Altars
             to
             deface
             .
          
           
             Behold
             their
             pride
             ,
             and
             poure
             on
             them
             ,
             thy
             wrath
             and
             heauy
             yre
             ,
          
           
             And
             strength
             my
             hand
             to
             execute
             ,
             the
             thing
             I
             now
             desire
             .
          
           
             Smite
             thou
             the
             seruant
             and
             the
             Lord
             ,
             as
             they
             together
             stand
             ,
          
           
             Abate
             their
             glory
             and
             their
             pride
             ,
             euen
             by
             a
             womans
             hand
             .
          
           
             For
             in
             the
             greatest
             multitude
             ,
             thou
             takest
             not
             delight
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             in
             the
             strong
             and
             valiant
             men
             consisteth
             not
             thy
             might
             .
          
           
           
             But
             to
             the
             humble
             ,
             lowly
             ,
             meeke
             ,
             the
             succourlesse
             and
             poore
             ,
          
           
             Thou
             art
             a
             help
             ,
             defence
             ,
             refuge
             ,
             and
             louing
             sauiour
             ,
          
           
             My
             father
             in
             thy
             name
             did
             trust
             ,
             O
             Israels
             Lord
             most
             deare
             ,
          
           
             Of
             heauen
             ,
             of
             earth
             ,
             of
             sea
             and
             land
             ,
             doo
             thou
             my
             praier
             heare
             .
          
           
             Grant
             thou
             me
             wit
             ,
             sleight
             ,
             power
             ,
             strēgth
             ,
             to
             woūd
             thē
             which
             aduance
          
           
             Thēselues
             ouer
             thy
             Sion
             hil
             ,
             &
             thine
             inheritance
             .
          
           
             Declare
             to
             nations
             far
             and
             neare
             ,
             and
             let
             them
             know
             ful
             well
             ,
          
           
             Thou
             art
             the
             Lord
             ,
             wohse
             power
             &
             strength
             ,
             defendeth
             Israell
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             Song
             of
             Iudith
             ,
             hauing
             slaine
             Holophernes
             .
             In
             the
             xvi
             .
             Chap.
             of
             the
             book
             of
             Iudith
             .
          
           
             TUne
             vp
             the
             Timbrels
             then
             with
             laud
             vnto
             the
             Lord
             ,
          
           
             Sound
             foorth
             his
             praise
             on
             Simbals
             loud
             ,
             with
             songs
             of
             one
             accord
             ,
          
           
             Declare
             &
             shew
             his
             praise
             ,
             also
             his
             name
             rehearse
             ,
          
           
             In
             song
             of
             thankes
             exactly
             pend
             ,
             of
             sweet
             and
             noble
             verse
             .
          
           
             The
             Lord
             he
             ceaseth
             warres
             ,
             euen
             he
             the
             verie
             same
             ,
          
           
             T
             is
             he
             that
             doth
             appease
             all
             strife
             ,
             Iehouah
             is
             his
             name
             .
          
           
             The
             which
             hath
             pitcht
             his
             tent
             ,
             our
             surest
             strength
             and
             aide
             ,
          
           
             Amongst
             vs
             here
             ,
             least
             that
             our
             foes
             ,
             shuld
             make
             vs
             once
             dismaid
          
           
             From
             northren
             mountain
             tops
             ,
             proud
             Assur
             came
             a
             downe
             ,
          
           
             With
             warlike
             men
             a
             multitude
             ,
             of
             famous
             high
             renowme
             .
          
           
             Whose
             footmen
             stopt
             the
             streams
             ,
             where
             riuers
             woont
             to
             flowe
             ,
          
           
             And
             horsmen
             couered
             all
             the
             vales
             ,
             that
             lay
             the
             hilles
             belowe
             .
          
           
             His
             purpose
             was
             for
             to
             destroy
             my
             land
             ,
             with
             sword
             and
             fire
             ,
          
           
             To
             put
             my
             yongmen
             to
             the
             sword
             ,
             did
             thirst
             with
             hot
             desire
             .
          
           
             My
             children
             to
             captiuitie
             ,
             he
             would
             haue
             borne
             away
             ,
          
           
             My
             virgins
             so
             by
             rape
             and
             force
             ,
             as
             spoiles
             and
             chiefest
             pray
             ,
          
           
             But
             yet
             the
             high
             and
             mighty
             Lord
             ,
             his
             people
             doth
             defend
             ,
          
           
             And
             by
             a
             silly
             womans
             hand
             ,
             hath
             brought
             him
             to
             his
             end
             .
          
           
             For
             why
             ?
             their
             mightie
             men
             ,
             with
             Armes
             were
             not
             subdude
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             with
             their
             blood
             our
             yoong
             mens
             hands
             ,
             were
             not
             at
             al
             imbrude
             .
          
           
             No
             ,
             none
             of
             Titans
             line
             ,
             this
             proud
             Assirian
             slue
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             any
             Gyants
             aid
             we
             crau'd
             ,
             this
             souldier
             to
             subdue
             .
          
           
             But
             Iudith
             she
             alone
             ,
             Meraris
             daughter
             deere
             ,
          
           
             Whose
             heauenly
             hue
             hath
             bred
             his
             baine
             ,
             and
             brought
             him
             to
             his
             beere
             .
          
           
           
             She
             left
             her
             mourning
             weed
             ,
             and
             deckt
             her selfe
             with
             gold
             ,
          
           
             In
             royall
             robes
             of
             seemly
             shewe
             ,
             all
             Israell
             to
             behold
             .
          
           
             With
             odors
             she
             perfum'd
             her selfe
             ,
             after
             the
             queintest
             guise
             ,
          
           
             Her
             haire
             with
             fillet
             finely
             bound
             ,
             as
             Art
             could
             wel
             deuise
             .
          
           
             Her
             slippers
             neat
             and
             trim
             ,
             his
             eies
             and
             fancie
             fed
             ,
          
           
             Her
             beautie
             hath
             bewitcht
             his
             mind
             ,
             her
             sword
             cut
             off
             his
             head
             .
          
           
             The
             Perseans
             were
             amaz'd
             ,
             her
             modestie
             was
             such
             ,
          
           
             The
             Medes
             at
             her
             bold
             enterprise
             ,
             they
             marueiled
             as
             much
             .
          
           
             Amongst
             th'
             Assyrians
             then
             ,
             great
             clamors
             can
             arise
             ,
          
           
             When
             as
             the
             fact
             so
             lately
             done
             ,
             apear'd
             before
             their
             eies
             .
          
           
             the
             sons
             which
             erst
             my
             daughters
             haue
             ,
             euen
             on
             their
             bodies
             born
          
           
             Haue
             slaine
             them
             as
             they
             fled
             in
             chace
             ,
             as
             men
             so
             quite
             forlorne
             .
          
           
             Euen
             at
             the
             presence
             of
             the
             Lord
             ,
             the
             stoutest
             turn'd
             his
             backe
             ,
          
           
             His
             power
             did
             so
             astonish
             them
             ,
             that
             al
             things
             went
             to
             wracke
             ,
          
           
             A
             song
             now
             let
             vs
             sing
             ,
             of
             thankes
             vnto
             the
             Lord
             ,
          
           
             Yea
             ,
             in
             a
             song
             of
             pleasant
             tune
             ,
             let
             vs
             his
             praise
             record
             .
          
           
             Oh
             God
             ,
             thou
             mightie
             Lord
             ,
             who
             is
             there
             like
             to
             thee
             ,
          
           
             In
             strength
             and
             power
             ,
             to
             thee
             oh
             Lord
             ,
             none
             may
             compared
             be
             .
          
           
             Thy
             creatures
             all
             obey
             ,
             and
             serue
             thee
             in
             their
             trade
             ,
          
           
             For
             thou
             no
             sooner
             spakst
             the
             word
             ,
             but
             euery
             thing
             was
             made
             .
          
           
             Thou
             sentest
             foorth
             the
             spirit
             ,
             which
             did
             thy
             worke
             fulfill
             ,
          
           
             And
             nothing
             can
             withstand
             thy
             voice
             ,
             but
             listen
             to
             thy
             will.
          
           
             The
             mountains
             shal
             remoue
             ,
             wher
             their
             foundation
             lay
             ,
          
           
             Likewise
             the
             floods
             ,
             the
             craggy
             rocks
             ,
             like
             wax
             shal
             melt
             away
             .
          
           
             But
             they
             that
             feare
             the
             Lord
             ,
             and
             in
             him
             put
             their
             trust
             ,
          
           
             Those
             will
             he
             loue
             and
             stil
             impute
             ,
             amongst
             the
             good
             and
             iust
             :
          
           
             But
             woe
             be
             those
             that
             seeke
             ,
             his
             chosen
             flocks
             decay
             ,
          
           
             The
             Lord
             God
             wil
             reuenge
             their
             wrongs
             ,
             at
             the
             last
             iudgement
             day
          
           
             For
             he
             such
             quenchlesse
             fire
             ,
             and
             gnawing
             wormes
             shal
             send
             ,
          
           
             Into
             their
             flesh
             ,
             as
             shal
             consume
             ,
             them
             world
             without
             an
             end
             .
          
        
         
           
             A
             Praier
             of
             the
             Authour
             .
             In
             the
             xxiii
             .
             Chap.
             of
             Ecclesiasticus
             .
          
           
             
               LOrd
               of
               my
               life
               ,
               my
               guide
               and
               gouernour
               ,
            
             
               Father
               ,
               of
               thee
               this
               one
               thing
               I
               require
               ,
            
             
             
               Thou
               wilt
               not
               leaue
               me
               to
               the
               wicked
               power
               ,
            
             
               Which
               seeke
               my
               fall
               ,
               and
               stil
               my
               death
               desire
               .
            
          
           
             
               Oh
               ,
               who
               is
               he
               that
               shall
               instruct
               my
               thought
               ,
            
             
               And
               so
               with
               wisdom
               shall
               inspire
               my
               heart
               :
            
             
               In
               ignorance
               that
               nothing
               may
               be
               wrought
            
             
               By
               me
               with
               them
               whose
               sinne
               shall
               not
               depart
               .
            
          
           
             
               Least
               that
               mine
               errors
               growe
               and
               multiplie
               ,
            
             
               And
               to
               destruction
               through
               my
               sinnes
               I
               fall
               :
            
             
               My
               foes
               reioice
               at
               my
               aduersitie
               ,
            
             
               Who
               in
               thy
               mercie
               haue
               no
               hope
               at
               all
               .
            
          
           
             
               My
               Lord
               and
               God
               ,
               from
               whom
               my
               life
               I
               tooke
               ,
            
             
               Unto
               the
               wicked
               leaue
               me
               not
               a
               pray
               :
            
             
               A
               haughty
               mind
               ,
               a
               proud
               disdainfull
               looke
               ,
            
             
               From
               me
               thy
               Seruant
               take
               thou
               cleane
               away
               .
            
          
           
             
               Uaine
               hope
               likewise
               ,
               with
               vile
               concupiscence
               ,
            
             
               Lord
               of
               thy
               mercie
               take
               thou
               cleane
               from
               me
               :
            
             
               Retaine
               thou
               him
               in
               true
               obedience
               ,
            
             
               Who
               with
               desire
               daily
               serueth
               thee
               .
            
          
           
             
               Let
               not
               desire
               to
               please
               the
               greedy
               mawe
               ,
            
             
               Or
               appetite
               of
               any
               fleshly
               lust
               :
            
             
               Thy
               seruant
               from
               his
               louing
               Lord
               withdraw
               ,
            
             
               But
               giue
               thou
               me
               a
               mind
               both
               good
               and
               iust
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             The
             Praier
             of
             Salomon
             .
             In
             the
             ix
             .
             Chap.
             of
             the
             book
             of
             Wisdome
             .
          
           
             OH
             God
             of
             our
             forefathers
             all
             ,
             of
             mercie
             thou
             the
             Lord
             :
          
           
             Which
             heauen
             and
             earth
             ,
             and
             al
             thinges
             els
             ,
             createdst
             with
             thy
             word
             .
          
           
             And
             by
             thy
             wisdome
             madest
             man
             ,
             like
             to
             thy selfe
             alone
             ,
          
           
             And
             gauest
             him
             ouer
             thy
             workes
             ,
             the
             chiefe
             dominion
             .
          
           
           
             That
             he
             shoud
             rule
             vpon
             the
             earth
             ,
             with
             equity
             and
             right
             ,
          
           
             And
             that
             his
             iudgments
             should
             be
             pure
             ,
             and
             vpright
             in
             thy
             sight
             .
          
           
             Giue
             me
             that
             wisdome
             ,
             which
             about
             ,
             thy
             sacred
             throne
             doth
             stay
             ,
          
           
             And
             from
             amongst
             thine
             own
             elect
             (
             Lord
             )
             put
             me
             not
             away
             .
          
           
             For
             I
             thy
             seruant
             am
             ,
             and
             of
             thy
             handmaid
             borne
             ,
          
           
             A
             sillie
             soule
             ,
             whose
             life
             alas
             ,
             is
             short
             and
             all
             forlorne
             .
          
           
             And
             do
             not
             vnderstand
             at
             all
             ,
             what
             ought
             to
             be
             my
             guide
             ,
          
           
             I
             mean
             thy
             statutes
             and
             thy
             lawes
             ,
             least
             that
             I
             slip
             aside
             .
          
           
             For
             though
             a
             man
             in
             worldly
             things
             ,
             for
             wisdome
             be
             esteem'd
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             if
             thy
             wisdom
             want
             in
             him
             ,
             his
             ,
             is
             but
             folly
             deem'd
             .
          
           
             Thou
             chosest
             me
             to
             be
             a
             King
             ,
             to
             sit
             on
             royall
             throne
             ,
          
           
             To
             iudge
             the
             folk
             which
             thou
             of
             right
             ,
             dost
             chalenge
             for
             thy
             own
             .
          
           
             Thou
             hast
             commanded
             me
             to
             build
             ,
             a
             Temple
             on
             thy
             hill
             ,
          
           
             And
             Altar
             in
             the
             self
             same
             place
             ,
             where
             thou
             thy selfe
             doost
             dwel
             .
          
           
             Euen
             like
             vnto
             thy
             Tabernacle
             ,
             in
             each
             kind
             of
             respect
             ,
          
           
             A
             thing
             most
             holy
             ,
             which
             at
             first
             ,
             thy selfe
             thou
             didst
             erect
             .
          
           
             Thy
             wisdome
             being
             stil
             with
             thee
             ,
             which
             vnderstands
             thy
             trade
             ,
          
           
             When
             as
             thou
             framedst
             first
             the
             world
             ,
             and
             her
             foundation
             laid
             .
          
           
             Which
             knew
             the
             thing
             that
             most
             of
             all
             ,
             was
             pleasant
             in
             thy
             sight
          
           
             Thy
             wil
             and
             thy
             commandements
             ,
             wherein
             thou
             takst
             delight
             .
          
           
             Send
             her
             down
             from
             that
             heauenly
             seat
             ,
             wheras
             she
             doth
             abide
             ,
          
           
             That
             she
             may
             shew
             to
             me
             thy
             will
             ,
             and
             be
             my
             onely
             guide
             .
          
           
             For
             she
             dooth
             know
             and
             vnderstand
             ,
             yea
             ,
             al
             things
             doth
             foresee
             .
          
           
             And
             by
             her
             works
             and
             mighty
             power
             ,
             I
             shall
             preserued
             bee
             .
          
           
             Then
             shal
             my
             works
             accepted
             be
             ,
             and
             liked
             in
             thy
             sight
             ,
          
           
             When
             I
             vpon
             my
             fathers
             throne
             ,
             shall
             iudge
             thy
             folke
             aright
             .
          
           
             Who
             knoweth
             the
             counsell
             of
             the
             Lord
             ,
             his
             deep
             and
             secret
             skil
             .
          
           
             Or
             who
             may
             search
             into
             his
             works
             ,
             or
             know
             his
             holy
             will
             ?
          
           
             For
             why
             ?
             the
             thoughts
             of
             mortal
             men
             ,
             are
             nothing
             els
             but
             care
             ,
          
           
             Their
             forecasts
             and
             deuises
             all
             ,
             things
             most
             vncertaine
             are
             .
          
           
             The
             bodie
             is
             vnto
             the
             soule
             ,
             a
             waight
             and
             burthen
             great
             ,
          
           
             The
             earthly
             house
             depresseth
             down
             ,
             the
             mind
             with
             cares
             repleat
          
           
             The
             things
             which
             here
             on
             earth
             remain
             ,
             we
             hardly
             can
             discern
             ,
          
           
             To
             find
             their
             secret
             vse
             and
             trade
             ,
             with
             labor
             great
             we
             learne
             .
          
           
             For
             who
             doth
             search
             or
             seek
             to
             know
             ,
             with
             traueill
             &
             with
             care
             ,
          
           
             The
             secrets
             of
             the
             mightie
             Lord
             ,
             which
             hie
             in
             heauen
             are
             .
          
           
             Who
             can
             thy
             counsels
             vnderstand
             ,
             except
             thou
             doo
             impart
          
           
             Thy
             wisdome
             ,
             and
             thy
             holy
             spirit
             doost
             send
             into
             his
             heart
             ?
          
           
           
             For
             so
             the
             waies
             of
             mortal
             men
             ,
             reformed
             are
             and
             taught
             ,
          
           
             The
             things
             that
             most
             delighteth
             thee
             ,
             which
             wisdom
             forth
             haue
             brought
             .
          
        
         
           
             A
             Song
             of
             Ihesus
             the
             sonne
             of
             Sirach
             .
             In
             the
             last
             Chap.
             of
             Ecclesiasticus
             .
          
           
             
               I
               Will
               confesse
               thy
               name
               O
               Lord
               ,
            
             
               And
               giue
               thee
               praise
               with
               one
               accord
               :
            
             
               My
               God
               ,
               my
               King
               ,
               and
               Sauiour
               ,
            
             
               Unto
               thy
               name
               be
               thankes
               and
               power
               .
            
          
           
             
               I
               haue
               bene
               succoured
               by
               thee
               ,
            
             
               And
               thou
               hast
               still
               preserued
               me
               :
            
             
               And
               from
               destruction
               kept
               me
               long
               ,
            
             
               And
               from
               report
               of
               slaunderous
               tongue
               .
            
          
           
             
               From
               lips
               stil
               exrcisde
               with
               lies
               ,
            
             
               And
               from
               my
               cruell
               enemies
               ,
            
             
               Thou
               me
               in
               mercie
               doost
               deliuer
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               blessed
               name
               be
               praisde
               for
               euer
               .
            
          
           
             
               From
               monsters
               ,
               that
               would
               me
               deuoure
               ,
            
             
               From
               cruell
               tyrants
               ,
               and
               their
               power
               :
            
             
               In
               all
               affliction
               paine
               and
               griefe
               ,
            
             
               Thou
               succourest
               me
               with
               some
               reliefe
               .
            
          
           
             
               From
               the
               cruell
               burning
               flame
               .
            
             
               Poore
               I
               inclosde
               within
               the
               same
               :
            
             
               From
               the
               deepe
               infernall
               pit
               ,
            
             
               From
               venom'd
               tongues
               that
               poison
               spit
               .
            
          
           
             
               From
               speeches
               that
               of
               malice
               spring
               ,
            
             
               From
               accusation
               to
               the
               king
               ,
            
             
               From
               all
               reproch
               and
               infamy
               ,
            
             
               From
               slander
               ,
               and
               like
               villanie
               .
            
          
           
             
             
               My
               soule
               ,
               to
               death
               praise
               thou
               the
               Lord
               ,
            
             
               And
               laud
               his
               name
               with
               one
               accord
               :
            
             
               For
               death
               was
               readie
               thee
               to
               take
               ,
            
             
               And
               thou
               neare
               the
               infernall
               lake
               .
            
          
           
             
               They
               compassed
               me
               round
               about
               ,
            
             
               But
               there
               was
               none
               to
               helpe
               me
               out
               :
            
             
               I
               look'd
               when
               succour
               would
               appeare
               ,
            
             
               But
               there
               was
               none
               that
               would
               come
               neare
               .
            
          
           
             
               Upon
               thy
               mercies
               then
               I
               thought
               ,
            
             
               And
               on
               the
               wonders
               thou
               hast
               wrought
               :
            
             
               How
               from
               destruction
               thou
               doost
               saue
               ,
            
             
               Such
               as
               in
               thee
               affiance
               haue
               .
            
          
           
             
               In
               praier
               then
               I
               did
               perseuer
               ,
            
             
               That
               thou
               from
               death
               wouldst
               me
               deliuer
               :
            
             
               Unto
               the
               Lord
               I
               crie
               and
               call
               ,
            
             
               That
               he
               would
               rid
               me
               out
               of
               thrall
               :
            
          
           
             
               Therefore
               I
               still
               will
               praise
               thy
               name
               ,
            
             
               And
               euer
               thanke
               thee
               for
               the
               same
               :
            
             
               My
               praiers
               shall
               of
               thee
               be
               heard
               ,
            
             
               And
               neuer
               from
               thy
               cares
               debard
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thou
               sau'st
               me
               from
               destruction
               ,
            
             
               And
               other
               mischiefs
               more
               than
               one
               :
            
             
               Therefore
               wil
               I
               praise
               thee
               O
               Lord
               ,
            
             
               And
               in
               my
               songs
               thy
               name
               record
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             The
             Praier
             of
             Hester
             ,
             for
             the
             deliuerance
             of
             her
             and
             her
             people
             .
             In
             the
             xiiii
             .
             Chap.
             of
             Hester
             .
          
           
             O
             Mighty
             Lord
             ,
             thou
             art
             our
             God
             ,
             to
             thee
             for
             aid
             I
             crie
             ,
          
           
             To
             help
             a
             woman
             desolate
             ,
             sith
             danger
             now
             is
             nie
             :
          
           
             Euen
             frō
             my
             youth
             I
             oft
             haue
             hard
             my
             predecessors
             tel
             ,
          
           
           
             That
             from
             amongst
             the
             nations
             all
             thou
             chosest
             Israell
             .
          
           
             And
             chosest
             those
             our
             fathers
             were
             ,
             from
             theirs
             that
             went
             before
          
           
             To
             be
             thine
             owne
             and
             hast
             perform'd
             ,
             thy
             promise
             euermore
             .
          
           
             Now
             Lord
             we
             haue
             committed
             sin
             ,
             most
             grieuous
             in
             thine
             eies
             ,
          
           
             Wherfore
             thou
             hast
             deliuered
             vs
             ,
             vnto
             our
             enemies
             .
          
           
             Because
             that
             to
             their
             heathen
             gods
             ,
             with
             worship
             we
             haue
             gone
             ,
          
           
             Knowing
             that
             thou
             art
             God
             the
             Lord
             ,
             the
             righteous
             Lord
             alone
             .
          
           
             Yet
             not
             content
             ,
             nor
             satisfied
             ,
             with
             these
             our
             captiues
             bands
             .
          
           
             But
             with
             their
             Idols
             they
             thēselues
             ,
             haue
             ioin'd
             &
             shaken
             hands
          
           
             Quite
             to
             abolish
             and
             subuert
             ,
             what
             thou
             appointed
             hast
             ,
          
           
             And
             this
             thine
             owne
             inheritance
             euen
             vtterly
             to
             waste
             .
          
           
             To
             shut
             and
             stop
             the
             mouthes
             of
             those
             ,
             that
             yeeld
             thee
             thanks
             and
             praise
             ,
          
           
             Thy
             glorious
             temples
             to
             defile
             ,
             thine
             Altars
             vp
             to
             raise
             :
          
           
             And
             to
             induce
             the
             heathen
             folke
             ,
             to
             laud
             their
             Idols
             might
             ,
          
           
             To
             magnifie
             a
             fleshly
             King
             ,
             a
             man
             ,
             a
             mortall
             wight
             .
          
           
             Then
             let
             not
             such
             the
             Scepter
             sway
             ,
             whose
             glorie
             is
             of
             nought
             ,
          
           
             Least
             they
             deride
             vs
             when
             that
             we
             ,
             to
             miserie
             are
             brought
             .
          
           
             And
             those
             deuises
             they
             haue
             wrought
             ,
             t'intangle
             vs
             withall
             ,
          
           
             May
             turne
             vnto
             their
             owne
             decay
             ,
             and
             on
             their
             heads
             may
             fall
             .
          
           
             Remember
             Lord
             ,
             and
             shew
             thy selfe
             ,
             to
             vs
             in
             time
             of
             need
             ,
          
           
             And
             strengthen
             me
             thou
             King
             of
             kings
             ,
             &
             Lord
             of
             power
             indeed
             ,
          
           
             Instruct
             my
             tongue
             with
             eloquence
             ,
             my
             speaches
             to
             impart
             .
          
           
             Before
             the
             Lions
             face
             ,
             and
             by
             ,
             thy
             wisdome
             turne
             his
             heart
             .
          
           
             To
             hate
             our
             deadly
             enemie
             ,
             so
             wholly
             bent
             to
             ill
             ,
          
           
             Destroy
             him
             ,
             and
             al
             such
             as
             doo
             consent
             vnto
             his
             will.
          
           
             But
             let
             thy
             hand
             deliuer
             vs
             ,
             and
             help
             and
             succour
             me
             ,
          
           
             Sith
             I
             am
             now
             left
             comfortlesse
             ,
             and
             haue
             no
             help
             but
             thee
             .
          
           
             Thou
             know'st
             right
             well
             all
             things
             O
             Lord
             ,
             &
             this
             thou
             knowest
             then
          
           
             I
             hate
             the
             glory
             and
             the
             pompe
             ,
             of
             wicked
             sinful
             men
             ,
          
           
             And
             vtterly
             detest
             the
             bed
             ,
             of
             any
             heathen
             wight
             ,
          
           
             Uncircumcised
             ,
             most
             vnpure
             ,
             and
             odious
             in
             thy
             sight
             :
          
           
             Thou
             knowest
             my
             necessitie
             ,
             and
             that
             with
             hate
             I
             beare
          
           
             This
             token
             of
             preheminence
             ,
             which
             on
             my
             head
             I
             weare
             .
          
           
             And
             as
             a
             filthy
             menstruous
             cloath
             ,
             I
             take
             thereof
             such
             shame
             ,
          
           
             As
             being
             by
             my selfe
             alone
             ,
             I
             neuer
             weare
             the
             same
             .
          
           
             And
             that
             at
             Hamans
             table
             yet
             ,
             thy
             handmaid
             hath
             not
             fed
             ,
          
           
             Nor
             tooke
             delight
             in
             princes
             feast
             ,
             nor
             drank
             wine
             offered
             ,
          
           
             And
             neuer
             ioi'd
             in
             any
             thing
             ,
             since
             first
             I
             hether
             came
             ,
          
           
           
             Until
             this
             day
             but
             in
             the
             Lord
             thou
             God
             of
             Abraham
             .
          
           
             Oh
             thou
             the
             high
             and
             mightie
             God
             ,
             heare
             thou
             the
             voice
             &
             crie
          
           
             Of
             them
             ,
             whose
             hope
             ,
             whose
             trust
             and
             stay
             ,
             only
             on
             thee
             doth
             lie
             .
          
           
             And
             now
             in
             need
             deliuer
             vs
             ,
             out
             of
             their
             cruell
             hand
             ,
          
           
             And
             from
             the
             dread
             and
             feare
             O
             Lord
             ,
             wherin
             we
             dayly
             stand
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             Praier
             of
             Mardocheus
             .
             In
             the
             xiii
             .
             Chap.
             of
             Hester
             .
          
           
             
               OH
               Lord
               ,
               my
               Lord
               ,
               that
               art
               the
               King
               of
               might
               ,
            
             
               Within
               whose
               power
               all
               thinges
               their
               being
               haue
               :
            
             
               Who
               may
               withstand
               that
               liueth
               in
               thy
               sight
               ,
            
             
               If
               thou
               thy
               chosen
               Israell
               wilt
               saue
               .
            
             
               For
               thou
               hast
               made
               the
               earth
               and
               heauen
               aboue
               ,
            
             
               And
               al
               things
               els
               that
               in
               the
               same
               do
               mooue
               .
            
          
           
             
               Thou
               madest
               all
               things
               ,
               and
               they
               are
               all
               thine
               own
               ,
            
             
               And
               there
               is
               none
               that
               may
               resist
               thy
               will
               :
            
             
               Thou
               know'st
               all
               things
               ,
               and
               this
               of
               thee
               is
               knowne
               ,
            
             
               I
               did
               not
               erst
               for
               malice
               nor
               for
               ill
               ,
            
             
               Presumption
               nor
               vaine
               glorie
               els
               at
               all
               ,
            
             
               Come
               nor
               bow
               downe
               vnto
               proud
               Hamans
               call
               .
            
          
           
             
               I
               could
               haue
               bin
               content
               for
               Israels
               sake
               ,
            
             
               To
               kisse
               the
               soles
               euen
               of
               his
               verie
               feet
               :
            
             
               But
               that
               I
               would
               not
               mans
               vaine
               honor
               take
               ,
            
             
               Before
               Gods
               glorie
               ,
               being
               so
               vnmeet
               .
            
             
               And
               would
               not
               worship
               none
               (
               O
               Lord
               )
               but
               thee
               :
            
             
               And
               not
               of
               pride
               ,
               as
               thou
               thy selfe
               doost
               see
               .
            
          
           
             
               Therefore
               (
               oh
               Lord
               )
               my
               God
               ,
               and
               heauenly
               king
            
             
               Haue
               mercie
               on
               the
               people
               thou
               hast
               bought
               :
            
             
               For
               they
               imagine
               and
               deuise
               the
               thing
               ,
            
             
               How
               to
               destroy
               and
               bring
               vs
               vnto
               nought
               .
            
             
               Thine
               heritance
               ,
               which
               thou
               so
               long
               hast
               fed
               ,
            
             
               And
               out
               so
               far
               from
               Egypt
               land
               hast
               led
               .
            
          
           
             
             
               Oh
               heare
               my
               praier
               ,
               and
               mercie
               doe
               extend
               ,
            
             
               Upon
               thy
               portion
               of
               inheritance
               ,
            
             
               For
               sorrowe
               now
               some
               ioy
               and
               solace
               send
               ,
            
             
               That
               we
               may
               liue
               thy
               glorie
               to
               aduance
               .
            
             
               And
               suffer
               not
               their
               mouthes
               shut
               vp
               oh
               Lord
               ,
            
             
               Which
               stil
               thy
               name
               with
               praises
               doo
               record
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             A
             Praier
             in
             the
             person
             of
             the
             Faithfull
             .
             The
             xxxvi
             .
             Chap.
             of
             Ecclesiasticus
             .
          
           
             
               HAue
               mercie
               on
               vs
               blessed
               Lord
               ,
            
             
               Which
               madest
               all
               thinges
               with
               thy
               word
               :
            
             
               Behold
               vs
               Sauiour
               from
               aboue
               ,
            
             
               Illuminate
               vs
               with
               thy
               loue
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               let
               the
               wicked
               dread
               thy
               name
               ,
            
             
               Which
               neuer
               sought
               vnto
               the
               same
               :
            
             
               And
               knowe
               that
               thou
               art
               God
               alone
               ,
            
             
               And
               like
               (
               in
               woonders
               )
               to
               be
               none
               .
            
          
           
             
               Oh
               Lord
               lift
               vp
               thy
               mightie
               hand
               ,
            
             
               The
               world
               thy
               power
               shall
               vnderstand
               :
            
             
               As
               by
               vs
               thou
               art
               sanctified
               ,
            
             
               By
               them
               so
               be
               thou
               magnified
               .
            
          
           
             
               That
               they
               may
               learne
               thy
               power
               to
               knowe
               ,
            
             
               As
               we
               that
               be
               thy
               seruantes
               doo
               ,
            
             
               Thou
               art
               the
               liuing
               Lord
               alone
               ,
            
             
               And
               other
               Goddes
               besides
               thee
               none
               .
            
          
           
             
               Renew
               the
               signes
               (
               Lord
               )
               thou
               hast
               showne
               ,
            
             
               And
               let
               thy
               woonderous
               woorks
               be
               knowne
               :
            
             
               Declare
               the
               strength
               of
               thy
               right
               hand
               ,
            
             
               Let
               them
               thy
               power
               vnderstand
               .
            
          
           
             
               Arise
               to
               iudgment
               in
               thine
               yre
               ,
            
             
               Poure
               out
               thy
               wrath
               as
               hot
               as
               fire
               :
            
             
             
               Destroy
               the
               cruell
               aduersarie
               ,
            
             
               To
               spoile
               our
               foes
               (
               Lord
               )
               doo
               not
               tarie
               .
            
          
           
             
               Shorten
               thou
               these
               wicked
               daies
               ,
            
             
               Thinke
               on
               thine
               oath
               at
               all
               assaies
               :
            
             
               Let
               thy
               woonders
               (
               Lord
               )
               appeare
               .
            
             
               And
               be
               thou
               praised
               farre
               and
               neare
               .
            
          
           
             
               In
               burning
               fire
               (
               Lord
               )
               let
               them
               die
               ,
            
             
               Which
               doe
               escape
               ,
               and
               seek
               to
               flie
               :
            
             
               And
               let
               them
               perish
               with
               annoy
               ,
            
             
               Which
               seeke
               thy
               people
               to
               destroy
               .
            
          
           
             
               Cleaue
               thou
               the
               heads
               of
               mighty
               kings
               ,
            
             
               Our
               enemies
               in
               godly
               things
               :
            
             
               And
               let
               the
               world
               behold
               and
               see
               ,
            
             
               That
               we
               are
               chosen
               vnto
               thee
               .
            
          
           
             
               Lord
               ,
               gather
               Iacob
               vnto
               thee
               ,
            
             
               That
               they
               thy
               might
               &
               power
               may
               see
               :
            
             
               that
               they
               thy
               wondrous
               works
               may
               show
            
             
               And
               to
               be
               thine
               themselues
               may
               know
               .
            
          
           
             
               Unto
               thy
               folke
               impute
               no
               blame
               ,
            
             
               Which
               euer
               cald
               vpon
               thy
               name
               :
            
             
               To
               Israel
               Lord
               be
               thou
               milde
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               only
               heir
               thy
               first
               borne
               child
               .
            
          
           
             
               Unto
               Ierusalem
               shew
               pitie
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               sanctuarie
               and
               thy
               citie
               :
            
             
               Blesse
               Sion
               where
               thy
               prophets
               liue
               ,
            
             
               Thy
               glorie
               to
               thy
               people
               giue
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               be
               thou
               witnesse
               vnto
               those
               ,
            
             
               Which
               haue
               bene
               thine
               still
               to
               dispose
               :
            
             
               And
               raise
               them
               vp
               oh
               Lord
               ,
               on
               hie
               ,
            
             
               Which
               in
               thy
               name
               doo
               prophesie
               .
            
          
           
             
             
               Reward
               them
               (
               Lord
               )
               that
               waite
               for
               thee
               ,
            
             
               That
               they
               thy
               Prophets
               trueth
               may
               see
               :
            
             
               Heare
               thou
               thy
               seruants
               praier
               oh
               Lord
               ,
            
             
               As
               thou
               to
               Aaron
               gauest
               thy
               word
               .
            
          
           
             
               Guide
               vs
               in
               way
               of
               righteousnesse
               ,
            
             
               The
               earth
               thy
               glorie
               shall
               expresse
               :
            
             
               And
               to
               the
               world
               it
               shall
               be
               knowne
               :
            
             
               Thou
               art
               eternall
               and
               alone
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             A
             Praier
             of
             Tobias
             ,
             exhorting
             all
             men
             to
             praise
             the
             Lord.
             Tobias
             .
             Chap.
             xiii
             .
          
           
             
               BLess'd
               be
               that
               king
               which
               euermore
               shal
               raign
               .
            
             
               So
               euer
               may
               his
               kingdome
               blessed
               be
               :
            
             
               Which
               punisheth
               and
               pittieth
               againe
               ,
            
             
               Which
               sends
               to
               hell
               ,
               and
               likewise
               setteth
               free
               .
            
             
               Before
               whose
               presence
               may
               no
               creature
               stand
               ,
            
             
               Nor
               any
               thing
               auoid
               his
               heauie
               hand
               .
            
          
           
             
               Ye
               children
               of
               his
               chosen
               Israell
               ,
            
             
               Before
               the
               Gentles
               stil
               confesse
               his
               name
               :
            
             
               With
               whom
               he
               hath
               appointed
               you
               to
               dwell
               ,
            
             
               Euen
               there
               (
               I
               say
               )
               extol
               and
               laude
               his
               fame
               :
            
             
               He
               is
               a
               Lord
               and
               God
               most
               gracious
               ,
            
             
               And
               still
               hath
               bene
               a
               father
               vnto
               vs.
               
            
          
           
             
               He
               wil
               scourge
               vs
               for
               our
               iniquitie
               ,
            
             
               Yet
               mercie
               will
               he
               take
               on
               vs
               againe
               ,
            
             
               And
               from
               those
               nations
               gathered
               shall
               we
               be
               ,
            
             
               With
               whom
               as
               strangers
               now
               we
               do
               remaine
               .
            
             
               Yf
               in
               your
               harts
               he
               shal
               repentance
               find
               ,
            
             
               And
               turne
               to
               him
               with
               zeale
               and
               willing
               mind
               .
            
          
           
             
               When
               as
               your
               dealings
               shall
               be
               found
               vpright
               ,
            
             
               Then
               wil
               he
               turn
               his
               face
               from
               you
               no
               more
               :
            
             
               Nor
               thenceforth
               hide
               his
               presence
               from
               your
               sight
               ,
            
             
             
               But
               lend
               his
               mercie
               ,
               then
               laid
               vp
               in
               store
               ,
            
             
               Therefore
               confesse
               his
               name
               ,
               &
               praises
               sing
               ,
            
             
               To
               that
               most
               great
               and
               highest
               heauenly
               King.
               
            
          
           
             
               I
               will
               confesse
               him
               in
               captiuitie
               ,
            
             
               And
               to
               a
               wicked
               people
               shewe
               his
               might
               ,
            
             
               Oh
               turne
               to
               him
               ,
               vile
               sinners
               that
               you
               be
               ,
            
             
               And
               doo
               the
               thing
               is
               vpright
               in
               his
               sight
               .
            
             
               Who
               's
               there
               can
               tell
               if
               he
               will
               mercie
               showe
               ,
            
             
               Or
               take
               compassion
               on
               you
               ,
               yea
               or
               noe
               ?
            
          
           
             
               I
               will
               extoll
               and
               laude
               thy
               name
               alwaies
               ,
            
             
               My
               soule
               ,
               the
               praise
               of
               heauens
               King
               expresse
               :
            
             
               All
               tongues
               on
               earth
               shall
               spread
               abroad
               his
               praise
               ,
            
             
               All
               nations
               shew
               foorth
               his
               righteousnesse
               .
            
             
               Ierusalem
               thou
               shalt
               be
               scourged
               then
               ,
            
             
               But
               he
               wil
               spare
               the
               sonnes
               of
               righteous
               men
               .
            
          
           
             
               Faile
               not
               to
               giue
               the
               Lord
               his
               praises
               due
               ,
            
             
               And
               still
               extoll
               that
               euerlasting
               King
               :
            
             
               And
               help
               to
               build
               his
               Tabernacle
               newe
               ,
            
             
               In
               which
               his
               Saints
               shall
               euer
               sit
               and
               sing
               .
            
             
               In
               which
               the
               captiues
               shall
               haue
               end
               of
               griefe
               ,
            
             
               In
               which
               the
               poore
               shall
               euer
               find
               reliefe
               .
            
          
           
             
               Many
               shall
               come
               from
               countries
               far
               and
               neare
               ,
            
             
               And
               shall
               great
               giftes
               vnto
               his
               presence
               bring
               ,
            
             
               Many
               before
               his
               presence
               shall
               appeare
               ,
            
             
               And
               shal
               reioice
               in
               this
               great
               heauenly
               King
               ,
            
             
               Cursed
               be
               those
               which
               hate
               thy
               blessed
               name
               ,
            
             
               But
               bless'd
               be
               those
               which
               loue
               &
               like
               the
               same
               .
            
          
           
             
               Triumph
               with
               ioy
               ,
               ye
               that
               be
               good
               and
               iust
               ,
            
             
               Though
               scattered
               now
               ,
               yet
               shall
               you
               gathered
               be
               :
            
             
               Then
               in
               the
               Lord
               fix
               all
               your
               hope
               and
               trust
               ,
            
             
               And
               rest
               in
               peace
               till
               you
               these
               blessings
               see
               .
            
             
               blessed
               be
               those
               which
               haue
               bin
               touch'd
               with
               griefe
            
             
               when
               they
               haue
               seen
               thee
               scourg'd
               ,
               &
               want
               reliefe
               .
            
          
           
             
             
               Those
               only
               shall
               reioice
               with
               thee
               againe
               ,
            
             
               And
               those
               shall
               be
               partakers
               of
               thy
               glorie
               :
            
             
               And
               shall
               in
               blisse
               for
               ay
               with
               thee
               remaine
               ,
            
             
               Now
               passed
               once
               these
               troubles
               transitorie
               .
            
             
               Then
               (
               oh
               my
               soule
               )
               see
               thou
               reioice
               and
               sing
               ,
            
             
               And
               laud
               the
               great
               and
               highest
               heuenly
               King
            
          
           
             
               And
               he
               will
               build
               Ierusalem
               full
               faire
               ,
            
             
               With
               Emeralds
               and
               Saphyrs
               of
               great
               price
               ,
            
             
               With
               precious
               stones
               he
               will
               her
               walles
               repaire
               ,
            
             
               Her
               towers
               of
               golde
               with
               worke
               of
               rare
               deuice
               .
            
             
               And
               all
               her
               streetes
               with
               Berall
               will
               he
               paue
               .
            
             
               With
               Carbunckles
               and
               Ophirs
               passing
               braue
               .
            
          
           
             
               And
               all
               her
               people
               there
               ,
               shall
               sit
               and
               say
               ,
            
             
               Praised
               be
               God
               with
               Aleluiah
               .
            
          
           
        
      
       
         FINIS
         .