Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PSALM 68, by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PSALM 68, by                    
First Line: Do thou o god but rise, and in a moments space
Last Line: The mighty god of israel, to him be prayses still.


Do Thou O God but rise, and in a moments space
Thy foes shall scatred be, and cast in disarray
Who hate to Thee conceale, or hate to thee bewray
Affrighted at Thy fearfull look shall fly before Thy face
Yea so they all shall fly, as smoke away doth go
Which going goeth to naught, or like the waxy ball
At least aspect of Fire doth into water flow
So naughty men at sight of God from naught to nought shall fall.

Meane while who justice love, who set their hearts aright
When they behold how God doth wicked men destroy
In mapp of outward prayse shall paint their inward joy
And in his gracious ey shall find but triumph and delight.
Delight then triumph then, then joy before him show
Then prayse his name Who is, who on the heaven rides
Who most right judging judg the Widdows cause doth know
Who father of the Fatherless in Sacred Temple bides.

Thou God with Childrens store the empty house dost fill
Thou of the fetterd foot dost loose the fretting band
But that Rebellious rout, who stiff against Thee stand
Exiled from the fields of blisse the cursed sand do till
When Thou O God didst march before thy faithfull train
When through the wastfull wayes Thou didst Thy journy take
The heavns at sight of Thee with sweating drops did raine
The earth did bow her trembling knee, yea Sinay mount did shake.

Mount Sinay shook O God thou God of Israel
At sight of Thee, a sight exceding sight and thought
Who when to promisd soyle Thou hadst Thy people brought
Upon Thy weary heritage refreshing showers fell
There Thou Thy flock didst feed, therfore Thy sheep distrest
Thou hadst in store layd up each good and healthfull thing
A virgin army there, with chastness armed best
While armys fledd, by Thee was taught this triumph Song to sing.

These Kings, these Sons of Warr, lo, lo they fly they fly
Wee house-confined maids with distaffs share the spoyle
Whose hew though long at home the chimnys glosse did foyle
Since now as late enlarged doves wee freer skyes do try
As that gold-featherd fowle so shall our beautys shine
With beating wavy aire with oare of silverd winge
So dasleth gazing eyes that eyes cannot define
If those sweet lovely glittring streams from Gold or Silver spring.

For when th'Almighty had with utter overthrow
The Kings extirpate hence (that this may not seem strange)
The very ground her robes black mourning clouds did change
And clad herself in weather cleere, as cleare as Salmon snow
Mount Basan be Thou proud of thy fatt feeding lands
Of thy empyreall site, mount Basan boast thy fill
Whose proudly perking top so many tops commands
Mount Basan tho Thou boast and burst Gods hill is Sion hill.

You other hills, whose topps so many topps command
What makes you then to leap, what makes you then to swell
This humble mount is that where God desires to dwell
Here here his house, Who Ever is, shall everlasting stand
Here He twice thousands ten, yea doubled twice retaines
Of chariots fitt for warr, which carve with hooked wheele
In midst of whom the Lord in sacred seat remains
As glorious now, as when his weight mount Sinais back did feele.

Thou art gon up on high, with Thee Thy Captive bands
Whose spoiles Thou hast receiv'd, and wilt to Thyne impart
O God Eternall God, so reverenc't Thou art
That even thy Rebels dwell with Thee, as tenants to Thy lands
The Lord our healthfull help, our blessing prayse shall have
Who on us day by day doth good on good amasse
He only is our God, the God who doth us save
The Lord Eternall keeps the keyes wherby from death wee passe.

God of their hatinge heads the crounes with wounds shall crowne
Who are against him bent, and who still onward go
In way of wicked will, the bloody streames that flow
Their growing Perrukes water shall in tresses hanging down
As I my self, said God did once from Basan bring
And then from drowning death in deepest Seas did keep
I now will do again the same, the self same thing
From Basan I will bring my folk, and keep them from the deep.

He said; and out of hand, thou didst Thy foot engrain
In blood: In blood of foes thy doggs their tongues did dye
An[d] all O God, my King, beheld with open ey
Thy marching to Thy holy place, they saw, they saw Thee plain
The Vantguard was of them, that did with voyces sing
They in the rereward plac'd, on instruments did play
The middleward was maids, and did with timbrells ring
The voices, tymbrells, instruments in sweet consort did say

Praise God, O prayse our Lord, when you your meetings make
You blessed Jacobs root, you race of Israel
Of whom young Benjamin with sword his foes doth quell
And bullets shott from Judas sling, make more than armour ake
We noble Zabulon and Nepthali could name
Two thunderbolts of warr, but God we turn to Thee
Thou gav'st to us this force, O God confirm the same
And what by Thee hath been begun, by Thee let ended be

God for Thy temple sake, for Salem when it stands
Where Kings with offred gifts, Thy Altars heads shall croune
These furious bulls rebuke, these wanton calves knock down
These [want]on furious bulls and calves, these arrow-arm'd bands
I meane defeat these troops that do in warrs delight
Make them with humble grace their silver tributes pay
Let Egypt send to Thee her men of greatest might
Let Ethiope with lifted hands Thy speedy favour pray.

And you, you Kingdoms all, that Earthy Kings do share
The King of Kings extoll, I meane the heavnly King
A Song to God the Lord a Songe of prayses sing
Let your melodious Instruments his past-praise worth declare
For bravely mounted he on highest Heavens back
The rolling spheres to rule doth coachmanlike persist
And from the hight of hights in thundring cloudy crack
Sends down his voice, a voyce of strength, a strength none can resist.

Then give to God all strength, of strength the mine and spring
Whose brave magnificence, whose sunlike glory showes
No lesse on Israels line, the line himself hath chose
Than in the thundring cloudy crack, his powerfull might doth ring.
Thou fearfull art O God, and fearfull things didst show
Down from Thy starry Seat, from out Thy Sacred hill
From Him from Him it is his peoples might doth grow
The mighty God of Israel, to him be prayses still.





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