1 Lord in thy wrath reprove me not,
though I deserve thine ire:
Ne yet correct me in thy rage,
O Lord I thee desire.
2 For I am weak, therefore o Lord,
of mercy me forbeare:
And heale me Lord, for why thou know'st
my bones do quake for feare.
3 My soule is troubled very sore,
and vexed vehemently:
But Lord how long wilt thou delay,
to cure my misery?
4 Lord turn thee to my wonted grace,
my silly soule up take:
So save me not for my deserts,
but for thy mercies sake.
5 For why? no man among the dead
remebereth thee one whit:
Or who shall worship thee (O Lord)
in the infernal pit?
6 So grievous is my plaint and mone,
that I wax wondrous faint:
All night long I wash my bed
with teares of my complaint.
7 My sight is dim, and waxeth old
with anguish of my heart:
For feare of those that be my foes,
and would my soule subvert.
8 But now away from me all ye
that work iniquity:
For why? the Lord hat heard the voice
of my complaint and cry.
o He heard not onely the request
and prayer of my heart:
But it received at my hands,
and took it in good part.
10 And now my foes that vexed me,
the Lord will soon defame:
And suddenly confound them all
to their rebuke and shame.
|First Line:||Lord in thy wrath reprove me not|
|Title:||Domine ne in furore|
|Notes:||Sing this to Psalm 1|