Psal. IV. Aug. 10. 1653. ANlwer me when I calle

God of my righteousness,
In ftraights and in distress
Thou didft me disinthrall
And set at large; now spare,

Now pity me, and hear my earnest pray't.
Great ones how long will ye.
My glory have in scorn,
How long be thus forborn
Still to lové vanity,
To love, to seek, to prize

Things false and vain, and nothing else but lies ?
Yet know the Lord hath chose,
Chose to himself apart,
The good and meek of heart
(For whom to choose he knows)
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,
And be at peace within.
Offer the offerings just

of righteousness, and in Jehovah truft.
Many there be that say
Who yet will thew ús good
Talking like this world's brood ;

But, Lord, thus let me pray,
On us lift up the light,

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 stores doth over-cloy,
And from their plentcous grounds

With valt increase their corn and wine abounds,
In peace at once will I
Both lay me down and sleep,
For thou alone doft keep
Me safe where e'er I lie ;
As in a rocky Cell

Thou Lord alone in safety mak’ft me dwell.

Psal. V. Aug. 12. 1653.

Jehovah

Ehovah to my words give ear,

My meditation weigh,
The voice of my complaining hear
My King and God ; for unto thee I pray,
Jehovah thou my early voice

Shalt in the inorning hear,
rth’mórning I to thee with choice
Will rank my Prayers, and watch till thou appear,
For thou art not a God that takes

In wickedness delight,

Evil with thee no biding makes,
Fools, or mad men fand not within thy light.
Alt workers of iniquity

Thou hat’ft; and them unbleft
Thou wilt destroy that speak a lie;
The bloody and guileful man God doth deteft.
But I will in thy mercies dear

Thy nunierous mercies go
Into thy House; I in thy fear
Will towards thy Holy Temple worhip low;
Lord lead me in thy righteousness,

Lead me because of those
That do observe if I transgress,
Set thy ways right before, where my ftep goes,
For in his faltring mouth unstable

No word is firm or footh
Their inside, troubles miserable;
An open grave their throat,their tongue they smooth
God, find them guilty, let them fall

By their own counsels quelld;
Push them in their rebellions all
Still on; for against thee they have rebellid;
Then all who trust in thee hall bring

Their joy, while thou from blame
Defend & them, they shall ever fing
And fhall triumph in thee, who love thy nange.
For thou Jehovah wilt be found

To bless the just man still,
As with a shield thou wilt surround
Him with thy lasting favour and good will.

Psal. VI. Aug. 13. 1653. L

Ord in thine anger do not reprehend me,

Nor in thy hot displeasure me correâ ;
Pity me, Lord, for I am much deject,
Am very weak and faint ; heal and amend me,
For all my bones, that even with anguifh ake,

Are troubled, yea my soul is troubled fore,

And thou, O Lord, how long ? turn Lord, restore My soul, o save me for thy goodness sake: For in death no remembrance is of thee;

Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise?

Wearied I am with sighing out my days, Nightiy my Couch I make a kind of Sea; My Bed I water with my tears; mine Eye

Through grief consumes, is waxen old and dark

I'th' midst of all mine enemies that mark.
Depart all ye that work iniquity,
Depart from me, for the voice of my weeping

The Lord hath heard, the Lord harh heard my
My supplication with acceptance fair

(pray's, The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping. Mine enemies fall all be blank and dafa'd

With much confugion ; then grow red with thame

They shall return in haste the way they came, And in a moment hall be quite abaf'd.

Psal. VII. Aug. 14. 1653.

Upon the words of Chush the Benjamite

against him,

L

Ord my God to thee I flie,

Save me and secure me under
Thy protection while I cry,
Left as a Lion (and no wonder)
He hafte to tear my Soul asunder,
Tearing and no rescue nigh.

Lord my God if I have thought
Or done this, if wickedness
Be in my hands, if I have wrought
Ill to him that meant me peace,
Or to him have render'd less,
And not free'd my foe for naught;

Let th’enemy pursue my soul
And overtake it, let him tread
My life down to the earth, and roul
In the dust my glory dead,
In the dust and there out spread
Lodge it with dishonour foul.

Rise Jehovah in thine ire,
Rouze thy self amidst the rage