Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PSALM 50, by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PSALM 50, by                    
First Line: The ever living god the mighty lord
Last Line: And place with god in safty lasting ever.


The ever living God the mighty lord
Hath sent abroad his pursevant his Word
To all the Earth, to which in circling race
Rising or falling Sun doth shew his Face
Beauty of Beautys Sion is the place
Which he will beautify by his appearing
God comes, he comes and will not silent stay
Consuming Flames shall usher him the way
A guard of storms about him shall attend
Then by his voice he for the Earth shall send
And make the vaulted heav'n to earthward bend
That he may judg his people in their hearing.

Before me here let their appearance make
My Saints saith he who league did undertake
With me to hold my pledg of sacrifice
(This justest doome the Audience of the skys
Shall wondring shew, for no injustice lyes
When God himself as judg the judgement frameth.)
My people heare to you I speech will use
Heare Israel, and I will Thee accuse
For I am God, Thy God, and thus do say
Because Thou dost not dayly offrings pay
Nor Sacrifice to me present alway
This is not that in Thee my censure blameth.

Nor bullock I Thy house enstalled holds
Nor goate will take selected from Thy folds
For all the Cattle woody forests shield
For all the flocks a thousand downs do yeeld
All birds all beasts wide wanderers of the field
Are mine, all known to mee, and me all knowing
If I were hungry that I hungry were
Since earth is mine, and all that earth doth beare
I would not tell it Thee to begg thy meate
But do I long the flesh of bulls to eate
Or do I thirst to quench my thirsty heat
With blood from throats of bearded cattle flowing

A Sacrifice to God of Prayses frame
Perform Thy vowes made in the Highest name
In troublous times to me for succour send
The playning voice, and when I succor lend
For lending succour to my glory bend
All that Thou art; these offrings I demand Thee
This to the Good. Now to the Godles sort
How fitts it Thee my statutes to report
And of my Cov'enant in thy talk to prate
Wheras to live in right reformed state
Thou dost refuse, nay in Thy heart dost hate
Casting behind Thy back what I command Thee.

Seest Thou a thief? a theif with him Thou art
Adulterers findst? Thou tak'st Adulterers part
Thy mouth a denn where Serpent slaunder lyes
Thy tongue a stamp that coines but fraud and lyes
Ev'n to disgrace of him; whom to thee tyes
The sweet strait band of calling one your mother
Thus while Thou didst, because I silent staid
This in Thy thought thy wicked fancy said
God is like me, and like his like doth love
But my true deeds shall Thy false thoughts reprove
And to thy face from point to point shall prove
Against thee all that thou hast sought to smother.

Mark this all you, whose crazed holely braine
Cannot one thought of God in you contain
Mark this I say, least if with griping hand
I once lay hold of you, none may withstand
My matchless might, nor loose the pinching band
So straitly straind, as to be loosed never
In Summe who will that I take in good part
His offring must on Altar of his heart
Offer an earnest love of honouring me
And He whose stepps aright be disposed be
That man will I keep still from danger free
And place with God in safty lasting ever.





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