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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
PSALM 144, by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE First Line: Praisd be the lord of might Last Line: Theire god jehova call. | |||
Praisd be the lord of might my Rocke in all allarmes: by whome my handes doe fight my fingers mannage Armes My grace, my guard, my Forte, on whome my safetie staies to whome my hopes resorte by whome my realme obaies. Lord what is man that thou, shouldst tender so his fare? what hath his child to bowe thy thoughts unto his care? whose neerest kynn is nought, no image of whose daies more livelie can be thought then shade that never staies. Lord bend thy arched skies with ease to let thee downe: And make the stormes arrise from mountaines fuming crowne: Let followe flames from Skie to backe their stoutest stand Let fast thy Arrowes flie dispersing thickest band. Thy heav'nlie helpe extend and lifte mee from this flood: Let mee thy hand defend, from hand of forraigne broode Whose mouth no mouth at all, but forge of false intent whereto theire hand doth fall as aptest instrument. Then in newe songe to thee, will I exaulte my voice: Then shall O God with mee, my tenn string'd lute rejoice. Rejoice in him I saie, whoe Royall right preserves And saves from swordes decaie his David that him serves. O Lord thy helpe extend and lifte mee from this flood: let mee thy hand defend, from hand of forraigne broode. Whose mouth no mouth at all but forge of false intent whereto theire hand doth fall as aptest instrument. So then oure sonnes shall growe as plants of timelie springe: whome soone to fairest showe, theire happie growth doth bringe. As Pillers both doth beare and garnish kingelie hall Oure daughters straight, and faire each house embellish shall. Oure store shall aye be full yea shall such fullnes finde: Though all from thence wee pull yet more shall rest behinde. The Millions of encreasse, shall breake the woonted fowld yea such the sheepie presse the streetes shall scantlie howld. Oure heardes shall brave the best: abrode no foes allarme: At home to breake our rest, no crie the voice of harme. If blessed terme I maie, on whome such blessings fall Then blessed, blessed they theire God Jehova call. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PSALM 121 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE PSALM 136 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE PSALM 139 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE PSALM 8. MAN'S PLACE IN CREATION by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE TWENTY-THIRD PSALM by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE DEBORAH: THE SONG OF DEBORAH by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE ECCLESIASTES by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE ECCLESIASTES: THE LIGHT IS SWEET by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE ELIJAH AND THE PRIESTS OF BAAL: IN A TIME OF FAMINE by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE EXODUS 15. SONG OF ISRAEL FOR THE OVERTHROW OF EGYPT IN THE RED SEA by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE |
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