Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PSALM 6. DOMINE NE IN FURORE, by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PSALM 6. DOMINE NE IN FURORE, by                    
First Line: Lord, let not me, a worm, by thee be shent
Last Line: Their shameful flying.


Lord, let not me, a worm, by thee be shent,
While thou art in the heat of thy displeasure;
Ne let thy rage of my due punishment
Become the measure.

But mercy, Lord, let mercy thine descend,
For I am weak, and in my weakness languish;
Lord, help, for even my bones their marrow spend
With cruel anguish.

Nay, even my soul fell troubles do appal;
Alas, how long, God, wilt thou delay me?
Turn thee, sweet Lord, and from this ugly fall
My dear God, stay me.

Mercy, O mercy, Lord, for mercy's sake,
For death doth kill the witness of thy glory:
Can of thy praise the tongues entombed make
A heavenly story?

Lo, I am tired, while still I sigh and groan:
My moistened bed proofs of my sorrow showeth;
My bed, while I with black night mourn alone,
With my tears floweth.

Woe, like a moth, my face's beauty eats,
And age pulled on with pains all freshness fretteth,
The while a swarm of foes with vexing feats
My life besetteth.

Get hence, you evil, who in my evil rejoice,
In all whose works vainness is ever reigning;
For God hath heard the weeping, sobbing voice
Of my complaining.

The Lord my suit did hear, and gently hear;
They shall be shamed and vexed, that breed my crying;
And turn their backs, and straight on backs appear
Their shameful flying.





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