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Edward Farr, ed. Select Poetry of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth. 1845.

Psalme CIII

CV. Thomas Sternhold

Benedic, anima mea.

MY soule, giue laud vnto the Lord,

My spirite shall do the same;

And all the secrets of my heart,

Praise ye his holy name.

Giue thanks to God for all his gifts;

Shew not thyselfe vnkinde;

And suffer not his benefits

To slip out of thy minde:

That gaue thee pardon for thy faults,

And thee restord againe,

For all thy weake and frail disease,

And heald thee of thy paine:

That did redeeme thy life from death,

From which thou couldst not flee;

His mercy and compassion both

He did extend to thee:

That fild with goodnesse thy desire,

And did prolong thy youth,

Like as the egle casteth her bill,

Whereby her age reneweth.

The Lord with iustice doth repay

All such as be opprest;

So that their suffering and their wrongs

Are turned to the best.

His wayes and his commandements

To Moyses he did show;

His counsels and his valiant actes

The Israelite did know.

The Lord is kinde and mercifull,

When sinners do him grieue;

The slowest to conceiue a wrath,

And reddiest to forgiue.

He chides not vs continually,

Though we be full of strife;

Nor keepeth our faults in memory,

For all our sinefull life:

Nor yet according to our sinnes

The Lord doth vs regarde,

Nor after our iniquities

He doth vs not rewarde.

But as the space is wondrous great

’Twixt earth and heauen aboue,

So is his goodnesse much more large

To them that do him loue.

God doth remoue our sinnes from vs,

And our offences all,

As farre as is the sunne rysing

Full distant from his fall.

And looke, what pitty parents deare

Vnto their children beare,

Like pitty beareth the Lord to such

As worship him in feare.

The Lord that made vs knoweth our shape,

Our mould and fashion iust;

How weake and frayle our nature is,

And how we be but dust;

And how the tyme of mortall men

Is like the withering hay,

Or like the flower right fayre in field,

That fadeth full soone away:

Whose glosse and beauty stormy winds

Do vtterly disgrace,

And make that after their assaults

Such blossomes haue no place.

But yet the goodnesse of the Lord

With his shall euer stand;

Their children’s children do receiue

His goodnesse at his hand:

I meane, which keepe his couenant

With all their whole desire,

And not forget to do the thing

That he doth them require.

The heauens hye are made the seate

And footestole of the Lord,

And by his power imperiall

He gouerns all the world.

Ye angels, which are great in power,

Prayse ye and blesse the Lord,

Which to obey and do his will

Immediately accord.

Ye noble hostes and ministers,

Cease not to laud him still;

Which ready are to execute

His pleasure and his will.

Yea, all his workes in euery place,

Prayse ye his holy name:

My heart, my minde, and eke my soule,

Prayse ye also the same.