« السابقةمتابعة »
The brightest glory can eclipfe with night;
Te Dacus afper, te profugi Scythæ,
Injuriofo e pede proruas
Stantem Columnam, neu populus frequens
Concitet, imperiumque frangat.
All barbarous people, and their princes too,
Tanto peffimus omnium poeta,
Quanto tu optimus omnium patronus.
The worst of Poets I myself declare,
By how much you the best of Patrons are.
Quis expedivit Salmafio fuam Hundredam?
Minatus uno eft diffipare fufflatu,
Cantabit ultro Cardinalitium Melos.RE
Who taught Salmafius, that French chattering pye,
An outlaw'd king's last stock-A hundred more
Done into VERSE, 1653.
BLESS'D is the man who hath not walk'd aftray
of finners hath not stood, and in the feat
PSA L. II. done Aug. 8, 1653. Terzette
WHY do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations
Let us break off, fay they, by ftrength of hand Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear, Their twifted cords: he who in heav'n doth dwell Shall laugh, the Lord fhall fcoff them, then fevere Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell
And fierce ire trouble them; but I, faith he, Anointed have my King (though ye rebell) On Sion my holy hill. A firm decree
I will declare; The Lord to me hath faid: Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee This day; afk of me, and the grant is made ;; As thy poffeffion I on thee bestow
Th' Heathen, and as thy conqueft to be fway'd Earth's utmost bounds: them fhalt thou bring full low With iron fceptre bruis'd, and them difperfe Like to a potter's vessel fhiver'd fo.
And now be wife at length, ye kings averfe,
Be taught ye judges of the earth; with fear Jehovah ferve, and let your joy converse With trembling; kifs the Son left he appear In anger, and ye perish in the way,
If once his wrath take fire like fuel fere, Happy all thofe who have in him their stay..
PSAL. III Aug, 9, 1653.
When he fled from Abfilom
LORD, how many are my foes?
That in arms against me rise!
That of my life diftraftfully thus fay, in long ertang No help for him in God there lies.
But thou, Lord, art my fhield, my glory,at decode t Thee through my story
Th' exalter of my head I count; Mare
Aloud I cry'd
Unto Jehovah, he full foon reply'd, And heard me from his holy mount.
I lay and flept, I wak'd again,
The populous rout
I fear not, though incamping round, about
Hafte fmote ere now more d
Of men abhorr'd
Haft broke the teeth. This help was from the Lord; Thy bleffing on thy people flows.
PSAL. IV. Aug. 10, 1653.
ANSWER me when I call,
God of my righteousness,
In ftraits and in distress
Thou didst me difinthral
And fet at large; now fpare,
Now pity me, and hear my earneft pray'r.
Great ones, how long will ye
My glory have in fcorn,
How long be thus forborn
Still to love vanity,
To love, to feek, to prize
Things falfe and vain, and nothing else but lies ?
Yet know the Lord hath chofe,
Chofe to himself apart,
The good and meek of heart,
(For whom to choose he knows.) sid Jehovah from on high
Will hear my voice what time to him I cry.
Be aw'd, and do not fin,
Speak to your hearts alone,
Upon your beds, each one,
Of righteoufnefs, and in Jehovah trust.
Many there be that fay,
Who yet will fhew us good?
Talking like this world's brood;
But, Lord, thus let me pray,
On us lift up the light,200
Lift up the favour of thy countenance bright;
Into my heart more joy
And gladness thou haft put,
Than when a year of glut
Their ftores doth over-cloy,
And from their plenteous grounds
With vaft increase their corn and wine abounds.
In peace at once will I
Both lay me down and sleep,
For thou alone doft keep
Me fafe where e'er I lie;
As in a rocky cell
Thou Lord alone in fafety mak'ft me dwell.
PSAL. V. Aug. 12, 1653. 1697)
[EHOVAH to my words give ear,
My meditation weigh,
The voice of my complaining hear,