Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PSALM 88, by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PSALM 88, by            
First Line: My god, my lord, my help, my health
Last Line: As darknes they to mee appeare.


My God, my Lord, my help, my health,
to thee my crie
doth restles flie
both when of Sunn, the daie
the treasures doth displaie
And night locks up his goulden wealth.

Admitt to presence what I crave
O bowe thine eare
my plaint to heare
whose Soule with ills, and woes
soe flowes, so overflowes,
That now my life drawes neere my grave.

With them that fall into the pitt
I stand esteem'd
quite forcles deem'd
As one whoe free from strife
and stirr of mortall life
Amonge the dead at rest doth sitt

Right like unto the murdred sorte
whoe in the grave
theire biding have
whome thou do'st no more
remember as before
Quite quite cutt of from thy supporte.

Throwne downe into the grave of graves
in darknes deepe
thou do'st mee keepe
where lightning of thy wrath
upon mee lighted hath
All overwhellm'd with all thy waves.

Who did knowe mee, whome I did knowe,
remov'd by thee
are gone from mee.
Are gone? that is the best
they all mee so detest
That nowe abroade I blush to goe

My wasted eye doth melt awaye
fleeting amayne
in Streames of paine
while I my prayers send
while I my hands extend
To thee my God and faile no daie.

Alas my lord, will then be time
when men are dead
thy truth to spread?
shall they whome death hath slaine
to praise thee live againe,
And from theire lowelie lodgings clime?

Shall buried mouthes thy mercie tell
Dust and decaie
thy truth displaie
And shall thy workes of marke
shine in the dreadfull darke?
Thy justice where oblivions dwell?

Good reason then I crie to thee
and ere the light
salute my sight
My plaint to thee dirrect
Lord why dost thou reject
My Soule, and hide thy face from mee?

Aye mee, alas, I fainte I die
so still, so still
thou dost mee fill
And hast from youngest yeares
with terrifieng feares
That I in traunce amaz'd doe lie

All over me thy furies paste
thy feares my mynde
doe fretting bynde
flowing about mee soe
as flocking waters flowe
No daie can overunne theire haste.

Whoe earst to mee were neere and deere
farr, nowe, O farr
disjoined are
And when I would them see
whoe my Aquaintance be
As darknes they to mee appeare.





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