Done Aug. 8, 1653. Terzetti.

Why do the Gentiles tumult, and the Nations

Muse a vain thing, the kings of the earth unstand

With power, and princes in their congregations Lay deep their plots together through each land

Against the Lord and his Messiah dear?

Let us break off, say they, by strength of hand Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear, Their twisted cords : He, who' in heaven doth

dwell, Shall laugh; the Lord shall scoff them; then

severe, Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell

And fierce ire trouble them; but I, saith he,

Anointed have my King (though ye rebel) On Sion my holy hill. A firm decree

I will declare: The Lord to me hath said,

Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee
This day; ask of me, and the grant is made ;

As thy possession I on thee bestow
The Heathen; and, as thy conquest to be sway'd,

Earth's utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full

With iron scepter bruis'd, and them disperse

Like to a potter's vessel shiver'd'so.
And now be wise at length, ye kings averse,

Be taught, ye Judges of the earth; with fear

Jehovah serve, and let your joy converse With trembling; kiss the Son lest he

appear In anger, and ye perish in the way,

If once his wrath take fire, like fuel sere. Happy all those who have in him their stay.


Aug. 9, 1653.


LORD, how many are my foes !

How many those,
That in arms against me rise !

Many are they,
That of my life distrustfully thus say;
No help for him in God there lies.
But thou, Lord, art my shield, my glory,

Thee, through my story,
The exalter of my head I count;

Aloud I cried
Unto Jehovah, he full soon replied,
And heard me from his holy mount.
I lay and slept; I wak'd again ;-

For my sustain
Was the Lord. Of many millions

The populous rout
I fear not, though, encamping round about,
They pitch against me their pavilions.
Rise, Lord; save me, my God; for thou

Hast smote ere now
On the cheek-bone all my foes,

Of men abhorr'd
Hast broke the teeth. This help was from the Lord;
Thy blessing on thy people flows.


Aug. 10, 1653,

ANSWER me when I call,
God of my righteousness;
In straights, and in distress,
Thou didst me disenthrall
And set at large; now spare,

Now pity me, and hear my earnest prayer.
Great ones, how long will ye
My glory have in scorn ?
How long be thus forborn
Still to love 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 hiin I cry.
Be aw'd and do not sin;
Speak to your hearts alone,
Upon your beds, each one,

And be at


within. Offer the offerings just

Of righteousness, and in Jehovah trust.
Many there be that say,
Who yet will show us 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 hast put,
Than when a year of glut
Their stores doth over-cloy,
And from their plenteous grounds

With vast encrease their corn and wine abounds.
In peace at once will I
Both lay me down and sleep ;
For thou alone dost keep
Me safe where'er I lie ;
As in a rocky cell

Thou, Lord, alone, in safety mak'st me dwell.

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