Helpe Lord! for all the godly men are gon, And of the faithfull, fewe there are, or non; Each man to other doth vaine things jmpart, With lipps deceiptfull, and with double hart; The Lord will soone cutt of the lipps that lie, And root out tongues that speake proud words and high. 'With mighty words wee will preuale' say they: What Lord is Hee that dareth us gainesay? 'Now for the trubles and oppressions sore The gronings and the sighings of the poore, I will arise' sayth God, 'and quell their foes That swell with pride; and them in rest repose.' God's words are pure, and chaste, like siluer tride Which hath with seauen fires bene purified. Thou wilt preserue them Lord! and guard them still, From this vile race of men which wish them ill. The ungodly walke in circles, yet goe free When such as feare not God, exalted bee. PSALM XIII. How long O Lord! shall I forgotten bee? How long wilt Thou Thy bright Face hide from mee? How long shall I my thoughts tosse to and fro And bee thus vext by my insultinge foe? Giue ease, O Lord; giue light unto mine eyes, Lest death in endlesse sleepe doth mee surprise; Lest my proud foe vaunt that hee doth preuaile, And laugh at mee when I shall faint or faile; But in Thy mercie all my trust is pight[187] And thy saluation is my hearte's delight; Of Thy sweet kindnes therefore sing will I, And highly praise the name of God, Most High. [Footnote 187: = pitched. Henry More in one of his Hymns uses the word: "Lord stretch Thy tent in my straight breast, Enlarge it downward, that sure rest May there be _pight_." G.] PSALM XIV.