I shall see my foes' defeat,
Shortly hear of their retreat;
But the just like palms shall flourish
Which the plains of Judah nourish,
Like tall cedars mounted on
Cloud-ascending Lebanon.
Plants set in thy court, below
Spread their roots, and upwards grow;
Fruit in their old age shall bring,
Ever fat and flourishing.
This God's justice celebrates:
He, my rock, injustice hates.
PSALM CXXIII.
Thou mover of the rolling spheres,
I, through the glasses of my tears,
To thee my eyes erect.
As servants mark their master's hands,
As maids their mistress's commands,
And liberty expect,
So we, depressed by enemies
And growing troubles, fix our eyes
On God, who sits on high;
Till he in mercy shall descend,
To give our miseries an end,
And turn our tears to joy.
O save us, Lord, by all forlorn,
The subject of contempt and scorn:
Defend us from their pride
Who live in fluency and ease,
Who with our woes their malice please,
And miseries deride.
Here is a part of the 66th Psalm, which makes a complete little song of
itself:
Bless the Lord. His praise be sung
While an ear can hear a tongue.
He our feet establisheth;
He our souls redeems from death.
Lord, as silver purified,
Thou hast with affliction tried,
Thou hast driven into the net,
Burdens on our shoulders set.
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