TO HIS VERY GOOD FRIEND MR. GEORGE HERBERT. THE pains that it pleased you to take about some of my writings I cannot forget; which did put me in mind to dedicate to you this poor exercise of my sickness. Besides, it being my manner for dedications, to choose those that I hold most fit for the argument, I thought that in respect of divinity and poesy met, (whereof the one is the matter, the other the stile of this little writing,) I could not make better choice. So, with signification of my love and acknowledgment, I ever rest Your affectionate Friend, FR. ST. ALBAN. A TRANSLATION OF CERTAIN PSALMS. THE TRANSLATION OF THE IST PSALM. WHO never gave to wicked reed Who never sinner's paths did tread, Nor sat him down in scorner's chair; And therein spendeth day and night: He shall be like the fruitful tree, A goodly yield of fruit doth bring: And are no prey to winter's pow'r: Surprised with an evil hour. With wicked men it is not so, Their lot is of another kind: For why? the Lord hath special eye THE TRANSLATION OF THE XIITH PSALM. HELP, Lord, for godly men have took their flight, Not one that standeth fast to truth and right, Their meaning go'th not with their words, in proof; But fair they flatter, with a cloven heart, By pleasing words, to work their own behoof. But God cut off the lips, that are all set To trap the harmless soul, that peace hath vow'd; And pierce the tongues, that seek to counterfeit The confidence of truth, by lying loud: Yet so they think to reign, and work their will By subtile speech, which enters ev'ry where; And say, Our tongues are ours, to help us still; What need we any higher pow'r to fear? Now for the bitter sighing of the poor, The Lord hath said, I will no more forbear And now thou wilt not first thy word forsake, In spite of all their force and wiles can do. The wicked daily do enlarge their bands; And that which makes them follow ill a vie, Rule is betaken to unworthy hands. THE TRANSLATION OF THE XCтн PSALM. ◇ LORD, thou art our home, to whom we fly, And so hast always been from age to age: Before the hills did intercept the eye, Or that the frame was up of earthly stage, One God thou wert, and art, and still shall be ; The line of Time, it doth not measure thee. |