Public Domain Poetry And Stories - Psal. VII. Upon the words of Chush the Benjamite against him. by John Milton
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Psal. VII. Upon the words of Chush the Benjamite against him.

    By John Milton



    Lord my God to thee I flie
    Save me and secure me under
    Thy protection while I crie
    Least as a Lion (and no wonder)
    He hast to tear my Soul asunder
    Tearing and no rescue nigh.

    Lord my God if I have thought
    Or done this, if wickedness
    Be in my hands, if I have wrought
    Ill to him that meant me peace,
    Or to him have render'd less,
    And fre'd my foe for naught;

    Let th'enemy pursue my soul
    And overtake it, let him tread
    My life down to the earth and roul
    In the dust my glory dead,
    In the dust and there out spread
    Lodge it with dishonour foul.

    Rise Jehovah in thine ire
    Rouze thy self amidst the rage
    Of my foes that urge like fire;
    And wake for me, their furi' asswage;
    Judgment here thou didst ingage
    And command which I desire.

    So th' assemblies of each Nation
    Will surround thee, seeking right,
    Thence to thy glorious habitation
    Return on high and in their sight.
    Jehovah judgeth most upright
    All people from the worlds foundation.

    Judge me Lord, be judge in this
    According to my righteousness
    And the innocence which is
    Upon me: cause at length to cease
    Of evil men the wickedness
    And their power that do amiss.

    But the just establish fast,
    Since thou art the just God that tries
    Hearts and reins.    On God is cast
    My defence, and in him lies
    In him who both just and wise
    Saves th' upright of Heart at last.

    God is a just Judge and severe,
    And God is every day offended;
    If th' unjust will not forbear,
    His Sword he whets, his Bow hath bended
    Already, and for him intended
    The tools of death, that waits him near.

    (His arrows purposely made he
    For them that persecute.)    Behold
    He travels big with vanitie,
    Trouble he hath conceav'd of old
    As in a womb, and from that mould
    Hath at length brought forth a Lie.

    He dig'd a pit, and delv'd it deep,
    And fell into the pit he made,
    His mischief that due course doth keep,
    Turns on his head, and his ill trade
    Of violence will undelay'd
    Fall on his crown with ruine steep.

    Then will I Jehovah's praise
    According to his justice raise
    And sing the Name and Deitie
    Of Jehovah the most high.



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