Psal 7 (MS. Fairfax 40, The Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford)
Transcription
What cause have I ô Lord to trust
Thee the preseuer of the iust
Whom saues from them that cruel are
Lion-li like had they powre as will
How would they rend vs teare & kill
Wer't not thou Lord our deliuerer
Lord if i't in to my powre hath come
To doe that's ill & I that it hath done
Or him betrayd wth whom I'ad peace
For my reward let May then my life & honor lie
Trode in the dust by the'enimy
Let him my soule to persecut not cease
But let thy prouoked powre arise
To curb Lord thes raging enimys
What tho'ast to me deseigned fulfill
Then shall thy people th'Elect in troopes come out
Wth songs of prayse inCompass thee about
For whose whom sake thou mounts thy holy hill
Who's fitt to iudge the peoples cause
But thou Lord by thy rightious Lawes
Let it the iustness of my case deside
As for the wickeds vp-heap'd sin
Stop its carere, then to iudgment bring
Establish those whose workes th'hast tride
My help ô Lord is in thy might
Who the Sauiour art of the vpright
The rightious iudge of good men's ways
Who turnes not from ther wicked path
His sword & bow prepared he hath
Gods angry wth the wicked euery
Being Angry wth them euery day
Distructiue weapons Armes of seueral kind
Prepared shall the wicked find
So he that labours walkes in the' course of sin
When he in his mischeuous thought
Plots a deceat then forth its brought
But the' pitt he'as didged himselfes falne in
As wrongs to others they haue done
So mischefes on themselues shall come
Wth showring vengance on ther pate
Then to the Lord shall prayse be giuen
Who is in iudgment right & euen
On thyee name most high shall prayses waite
Modernized Text
What cause have I, oh Lord, to trust
Thee, the presever of the just,
Who saves from them that cruel are?
Lion-like, had they power as will
How would they rend us, tear and kill,
Wer't not thou our deliverer.
Lord if 't into my power hath come
To do that's ill and it hath done
Or him betrayed with whom I'd peace
May then my life and honor lie
Trod in the dust by th'enimy:
Let him to persecute not cease.
But let provoked power arise
To curb these raging enemies.
What thou'st to me designed, fulfil;
Then shall th'Elect in troops come out
With songs encompass thee about,
For whom [whose] sake thou mounts thy holy hill.
Who's fit to judge the people's cause
But thou, Lord, by thy righteous laws!
The justness of my case decide.
As for the wickeds upheap'd sin,
Stop its career, to judgment bring;
Establish those whose works th'hast tried.
My help, oh Lord, is in thy might,
Who Saviour art of the upright,
The righteous judge of good men's ways
Who turns not from their wicked path.
His sword and bow prepared he hath,
Being angry with them every day.
Destructive arms of several kind[s]
Prepared shall the wicked find,
So he that walks in th' course of sin
When he in his mischievous thought
Plots a deceit, then forth its brought
But th' pit he's digged himself's fallen in.
As wrongs to others they have done,
So mischiefs on themselves shall come
With showering vengeance on their pate.
Then to the Lord shall praise be given,
Who is in judgment right and even
On thee most high shall praises wait.
