A PARAPHRASE OF THE CIV. PSALM. BY DAVID MURRAY.  
Edinburgh, Printed by ANDRO HART, ANNO DOM. 1615.   

To his sacred Majesty.  
THat princely Prophet whose celestial Vain,  
In sweetest Measures, & soule-charming Lays,  
To his dear Harp so fealingly bewrays  
Man's perfect Way to Pleasure and to Pain:  
Bequeathed the Skill of his Skie-fostered Brain,  
(Whilst he himself crowned with immortal Rays,  
Of endless Glory rests, not fading Bays)  
Here Phoenix like to be renewed again.  
And as from that Arabian Birds sweet Ash  
One still proceeds of like admired Wing:  
The sacred Fury of best Israel's King  
To Britanes Monarch doth so fully pass,  
By which inflamed He sings, that heavens Decree,  
None worthy DAVID'S Muse, & Harp but Herald  
Your majesties humble servant, David Murray.   

A PARAPHRASE of the CIV. PSALM.  

MY Soul praise thou jehovahs' holy Name,  
For he is great, and of exceeding Might,  
Who clothed with Glory, majesty, and Fame,  
And covered with the garments of the light,  
The azure Heaven doth like a Courtaine spread,  
And in the depths his chamber beams hath laid.   

The Clouds he makes his chariot to be,  
On them he wheels the crystal Skies about,  
And on the wings of Aeolus, doth He  
At pleasure walk; and sends his Angels out,  
Swift Heralds that do execute his will,  
His words the heavens with fiery lightnings fill.   

The Earth's foundation he did firmly place,  
And laid it so that it should never slide,  
He made the Depths her round about embrace,  
And like a rob her naked shores to hide,  
Whose waters would overflow the Mountains high  
But that they back at his rebuke do fly.   

At the dread voice of his consuming thunder,  
As these retire, the mountains in the Sky  
Do raise their tops, like Pyramids of wonder,  
And at their feet the pleasant valleys lie,  
And to the floods he doth prescribe a Bound,  
That they Earth's beauty may no more confound.   

The fertile Plains he doth refresh and cheer  
With pleasant Streams which from the mountains fall,  
To which (to quench their Thirst) all Beasts draw near,  
Even to the Ass whom never Yoke did thrall:  
And on the Trees by every crystal Spring,  
heavens Choristers do sweetly bill and sing,   

The thirsty Tops of Skie-menacing Hills  
He from the Clouds refresheth with his Rain,  
And with the Goodness of his Grace he fills  
The Earth, withal that doth therein remain,  
He causeth her both Man and Beast to feed  
The wholesome Herbs, and tender Grass to breed.   

The fruitful Ivy strict-embracing Vine,  
To glad Man's Heart he hath ordained and made,  
And gives him oil to make his Face to shine,  
And to increase his Strength, and Courage breed,  
The mighty Trees are nourished by his hand,  
The Cedars tall in Lebanon that stand.   

On whose wide-spreading, high and bushy Tops,  
The flightering Birds may build their Nests in peace,  
And in the Fir that pitchy Tears forth drops,  
He hath prepared the Stork a dwelling Place,  
The Mountains are unto the goats refuge,  
And in the Rocks the Porcupines do lodge.   

He hath appointed Seasons for the Moon,  
To fade, to grow, whiles fair to look, whiles wane,  
And makes bright Phoebus when the Day is done,  
In THETIS Lap to dive his head again:  
He clouds the Skies, and doth in Darkness pight,  
O'er all the Earth the Curtains of the Night,   

Then all the beasts from out the forest creep,  
To seek his prey the Lion loudly roars,  
The Serpent's hiss, the Crocodile doth weep,  
As if she would bewail them she devours,  
And when the Sun returns they all retire,  
And in their Dens do couch themselves for fear.   

And then doth man in safety freely go,  
To ply his work with diligence till Night,  
Thy wondrous wonders who, O Lord, can show?  
The earth is filled with thy Glory bright,  
And thou hast stored the Deepe-wyd Ocean Sea,  
With Fish, Beasts, Monsters, nomberles that be.   

There do the Winged Wooden Forts forth go,  
To climb the glassy mountains with their Keels,  
There Liviathan wanders to and fro,  
And through the weltering Billows tumbling reels,  
Who in that Liquid Labyrinth enclosed  
Doth play and sport as thou him hast disposed.   

All living things, O Lord, do wait on thee  
That in due season thou mayst give them food,  
And thou unfolds thy liberal hands most free  
And gives them every thing may do them good:  
Thy blessings thou so plenteously distilleth,  
That their abundance all things breathing fills.   

But if thy face thou do withdraw in wrath,  
Thy creatures all then languish, grieve, and murne,  
Or if thou angry take away their breath,  
They perish strait and into dust return:  
But when thy Spirit thou sends them to renew,  
All fresh doth flourish, Earth regains her hue.   

In his most glorious works let God rejoice,  
Who makes the Earth to tremble with a look,  
Let men admire and Angels with their voice  
Extol his Name whose touch makes mountains smoke;  
To this thought-passing speech-expreslesse, Lord,  
While Breath extends will I still praise afford.   

He will receive my humble suit in love,  
And in his favour I shall ever joy,  
The wicked from the Earth he will remove,  
And wholly heaven-dispising worms destroy.  
But whilst they buried lie in endless shame,  
My Soul praise thou jehovahs' holy Name.   
D. M.  
FINIS.