My God, my God, why hast thou me forsaken?
Wo me, from me, why is thy presence taken?
Soe farre from seeing, mine unhealthfull eyes:
Soe farre from hearing to my roaring cries.
O God, my God, I crie while day appeareth:
But God thy eare, my cryeng never heareth.
O God the night, is privie to my plaint
Yet to my plaint, thou hast no audience lent.
But thou art holy and dost hold thy dwelling
Where Israell thy lawdes is ever telling
Our fathers still to thee their trust did beare;
They trusted, and by thee delivered were.
They were sett free, when they upon thee called,
They hop’d on thee, and they were not appalled.
But I a worme not I of mannkind am,
Nay shame of men, the peoples scorning game.
The lookers now at me, poore wretch, be mocking,
With mowes, and nodds, they stand about me flocking.
Let God help him (say they) whom he did trust:
Lett God save hym in whom was all his lust.
And yet even from the wombe thy selfe did’st take me:
At mothers brests, thou did’st good hope betake me.
No sooner my child eyes could looke abroade,
Then I was giv’n to thee, thou wert my God.
O be not farre, since paine so neerly presseth,
And since there is not one, who it redresseth.
I am enclos’d with yong Bulls madded rowt
Nay Basan mighty Bulls close me about.
With gaping mouthes, these folkes, on me have chardged,
Like Lions fierce, with roaring jawes enlarged.
On me all this, who do like water slide,
Whose loosed boanes quite out of joynt be wri’d.
Whose hart, with these huge flames, like wax oreheated
Doth melt away, though it be inmost seated:
My moist’ning strength is like a pottsherd dride,
My cleaving tongue, close to my roofe doth bide.
And now am brought, alas, brought by thy power
Unto the dust of my deathes running hower:
For bawling doggs, have compast me about,
Yea worse then doggs, a naughty wicked rowt.
My humble handes, my fainting feete they pearced:
They looke, they gaze, my boanes might be rehearsed
Of my poore weedes they do partition make,
And doe cast lotts, who should my vesture take.
But be not farre ô Lord, my strength my comfort,
Hasten to help me, in this deepe discomfort.
Ah from the sword, yet save my vitall sprite,
My desolated life from dogged might.
From Lions mouth (ô help) and show to heare me
By aiding, when fierce Unicornes come neere me
To brethern then, I will declare thy fame,
And with these wordes, when they meete, praise thi name.
Who feare the Lord, all praise and glory beare hym
You Israells seed, you come of Jacob, feare hym.
For Hee hath not abhor’d, nor yet disdain’d
The silly wretch, with fowle affliction stain’d.
Nor hid from him his faces faire appearing.
But when he cal’d, this Lord did give hym hearing:
In congregation greate, I will praise thee:
Who feare thee shall my vowes performed see.
Th’afflicted then shall eate, and be well pleased:
And God shalbe, by those his seakers praised.
Indeede ô you, you that be such of mind,
You shall the life, that ever-liveth find.
But what? I say from earthes remotedst border
Unto due thoughts, mannkind his thoughts shall order
And turne to God, and all the Nations be
Made worshippers, before allmighty thee.
And reason, since the Crowne to God pertaineth,
And that by right upon all Realmes he raigneth.
They that be made, ev’n fatt, with earthes fatt good
Shall feede, and laud the giver of their food.
To him shall kneele even who to dust bee stricken,
Even hee whose life, no helpe of man can quicken
His service shall from child to child descend,
His doomes one age shall to another send.