Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PSALM 141, by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PSALM 141, by                    
First Line: To thee jehova thee I lifte my crieng voice
Last Line: But where for mee they laie, let mee leape freelie over.


To thee Jehova thee I lifte my crieng voice
O banish all delaie, and let my plaintfull noise
by thy quick-hearing eare, be carefully respected:
As sweete perfume to Skies, let what I praie ascend
Let theis up-lifted hands, which praieng I extend
as ev'ning Sacrifize be unto thee dirrected.

Warde well my wordes (O Lord) for that it is I praie:
A watchfull Sentinell at my Mouthes passage laie,
at Wicket of my lipps stand aye a faithfull porter:
Encline mee not to ill, nor let mee looselie goe
A mate in worke with such, whence no good worke doth growe,
and in theire flattring baites, let mee be no Consorter.

But let the good man wound, most well I shall it take
yea price of his rebukes, as dearest baulme shall make:
yea more shall for him praie, the more his wordes shall grieve mee
And as for theis, when once the leaders of theire crue:
by thee, be brought to stoope, my words most sweetelie true,
shall in the rest so worke, that soone they shall believe mee.

Meane while my bones the grave, the grave expects my bones,
so broken, hewne, disperst, as least respected stones
by careles Mason drawne, from cave of worthles quarrie:
But thou O Lord (my Lord) since this thy servants eye
repleate with hopefull truste, doth on thy helpe relie
faile not that trustfull hope, that for thy help doth tarrie.

O soe dirrect my feete, they maie escape the hands
of theire intangling snare, which for me pitched stands:
and from the wicked netts for mee, with crafte they cover:
Naie for theis fowlers once thyself a fowler be,
and make them fowlie fall, where netts are laid by thee
but where for mee they laie, let mee leape freelie over.





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