dots-menu
×

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

Psalme LI

CIX. William Whittingham

Miserere mei, Deus.

O LORD, consider my distresse,

And now with speede some pittie take;

My sinnes deface, my faults redresse,

Good Lord, for thy great mercies’ sake.

Wash me, O Lord, and make me cleane

From this vniust and sinfull act;

And purifie but once againe

My hainous crime and bloodie fact.

Remorse and sorrow doe constraine

Me to acknowledge mine excesse;

My sinne, alas! doth still remaine

Before my face without release.

For thee alone I haue offended,

Committing euill in thy sight;

And if I were therefore condemned,

Yet were thy iudgements iust and right.

It is too manifest, alas!

That first I was conceiued in sinne;

Yea, of my mother so borne was,

And yet, vile wretch, remaine therein.

Also behould, Lord, thou doest loue

The inward truth of a pure hart:

Therefore thy wisedome from aboue

Thou hast reuealed me to conuert.

If thou with hisope purge this blot,

I shall be cleaner than the glasse;

And if thou wash away my spot,

The snow in whitenesse shall I passe.

Therefore, O Lord, such ioy me send,

That inwardly I may find grace;

And then my strength may now amend,

Which yet hast swagde for my trespas.

Turne backe thy face and frowning ire,

For I haue felt inough thy hand;

And purge my sinnes, I thee desire,

Which doe in number passe the sand.

Make new my hart within my brest,

And frame it to thy holy will:

Thy constant Spirit in me let rest,

Which may these raging enemies kill.

Cast me not, Lord, out from thy face,

But spedily my torments end;

Take not from me thy Spirit and grace,

Which may from dangers me defend.

Restore me to those ioyes againe,

Which I was wont in thee to find;

And let me thy free Spirit retaine,

Which vnto thee may stir my mind.

Thus when I shall thy mercies know,

I shall instruct others therein;

And men likewise that are brought low

By mine example shall flee sin.

O God, that of my health art Lord,

Forgiue me this my bloudie vice;

My hart and tongue shall then accord

To sing thy mercies and iustice.

Touch thou my lips; my tongue vntie,

O Lord, which art the onely kay;

And then my mouth shall testifie

Thy wondrous workes and praise alway.

And as for outward sacrifice,

I would haue offered many a one,

But thou esteemest them of no price,

And therein pleasure takest none.

The heauie hart, the mind opprest,

O Lord, thou neuer doest reiect;

And, to speake truth, it is the best,

And of all sacrifice the effect.

Lord, vnto Sion turne thy face;

Poure out thy mercies on thy hill,

And on Jerusalem thy grace;

Build vp thy walles, and loue it still.

Thou shalt accept then our offrings

Of peace and righteousnes, I say;

Yea, calues and many other things

Vpon thine altar will we lay.