Classic and Contemporary Poetry
PSALM: 9, by JOSEPH HALL Poet's Biography First Line: Thee & thy wondrous deeds, o god Last Line: They been but men of mortall kind. Subject(s): Fear; God; Grief; Hope; Soul; Sorrow; Sadness; Optimism | ||||||||
1 Thee & thy wondrous deeds, O God With all my soule I sound abroad: 2 My ioy, my triumph is in thee, Of thy drad name my song shal be, 3 O highest God: since put to flight, And fall'n and vanisht at thy sight, 4 Are all my foes; for thou hast past Iust sentence on my cause at last: And sitting on thy throne aboue, A rightful Iudge thy selfe do'st proue: 5 The troupes profane thy checkes haue stroid And made their name for euer void. 6 Where's now, my foes, your threatned wrack? So well you did our citties sack, And bring to dust; whiles that ye say, Their name shall dy as well as they. 7 Lo, in eternall state God sits, And his hy throne to iustice fits: 8 Whose righteous hand the world shall weeld And to al folk iust doom shal yeeld. 9 The poore from hy find his reliefe, The poore in needfull times of griefe: 10 Who knowes thee Lord, to thee shalt cleaue, That neuer do'st thy clients leaue. 11 Oh! sing the God that doth abide, On Sion mount; and blazon wide 12 His worthy deeds. For, he pursues The guiltlesse bloud with vengeance due: He minds their case; nor can passe o're Sad clamours of the wronged poore. 13 Oh! mercy Lord; thou that do'st saue My soule from gates of death & graue: Oh! see the wrong my foes haue done; 14 That I thy praise, to all that gone, Through daughter Sions beautious gate, With thankfull songs may loud relate; And may reioice in thy safe ayd. 15 Behold: the Gentiles, whiles they made A deadly pit my soule to drowne, Into their pit are sunken downe; In that close snare they hid for mee, Lo their owne feet entangled bee. 16 By this iust doom the Lord is known, That th'ill are punished with their own. 17 Down shall the wicked backward fall To deepest hell, and nations all 18 That God forget; nor shall the poore Forgotten be for euermore. The constant hope of soules opprest 19 Shall not ay dy. Rise from thy rest, Oh! Lord, let not men base and rude Preuaile: iudge thou the multitude 20 Of Lawelesse pagans: strike pale fear Into those breasts late stubborn were: And let the Gentiles feele and find, They been but men of mortall kind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOPE IS NOT FOR THE WISE by ROBINSON JEFFERS SONNET by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SPRING FLOODS by MAURICE BARING SONNET: 9. HOPE by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE ALRIGHT by DEREK MAHON AN EPIGRAM ON JOHN MARSTON by JOSEPH HALL ANTHEMES FOR THE CATHEDRAL OF EXCETER: 1 by JOSEPH HALL ANTHEMES FOR THE CATHEDRAL OF EXCETER: 2. ANTHEME FOR CHRISTMAS DAY by JOSEPH HALL |
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