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Conserva me.
SAVE me, Lord; for why? thou art | |
| All the hope of all my hart: | |
| Wittnesse thou, my soule, with me, | |
| That to God, my God, I say, | |
| Thou, my Lord, thou art my stay, | 5 |
| Though my workes reach not to thee. | |
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| This is all the best I prove: | |
| Good and godly men I love; | |
| And forsee their wretched paine, | |
| Who to other gods doe runne: | 10 |
| Their blood-offerings I do shunne; | |
| Nay, to name their names disdaine. | |
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| God my only portion is, | |
| And of my childes part the bliss: | |
| He then shall maintaine my lott. | 15 |
| Say then, is not my lott found | |
| In a goodly pleasant ground? | |
| Have not I faire partage gott? | |
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| Ever, Lord, I will blesse thee, | |
| Who dost ever councell me: | 20 |
| Ev’n when Night with his black wing, | |
| Sleepy Darknes, doth orecast, | |
| In my inward raines I tast | |
| Of my faultes and chastening. | |
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| My eyes still my God reguard, | 25 |
| And he my right hand doth guard; | |
| So can I not be opprest, | |
| So my hart is fully gladd, | |
| So in joy my glory cladd: | |
| Yea, my flesh in hope shall rest. | 30 |
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| For I know the deadly grave | |
| On my soule noe pow’r shall have: | |
| For I know thou wilt defend | |
| Even the body of thine own | |
| Deare beloved holy one | 35 |
| From a fowle corrupting end. | |
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| Thou life’s path wilt make me knowe, | |
| In whose view doth plenty growe | |
| All delights that soules can crave; | |
| And whose bodies placed stand | 40 |
| On thy blessed-making hand, | |
| They all joies like-endless have. | |
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