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MARTYRS | Common Meter (8,6,8,6)
1650 Scottish Psalter
Melody from Scottish Psalter, 1615 (1635 rhythm)
1 O thou the God of all my praise, do thou not hold thy peace; 2 For mouths of wicked men to speak against me do not cease: The mouths of vile deceitful men against me opened be; And with a false and lying tongue they have accusèd me. 3 They did beset me round about with words of hateful spite: And though to them no cause I gave, against me they did fight. 4 They for my love became my foes, but I me set to pray. 5 Evil for good, hatred for love, to me they did repay. 6 Set thou the wicked over him; and upon his right hand Give thou his greatest enemy, ev'n Satan, leave to stand. 7 And when by thee he shall be judged, let him condemnèd be; And let his prayer be turned to sin, when he shall call on thee. 8 Few be his days, and in his room his charge another take. 9 His children let be fatherless, his wife a widow make. 10 His children let be vagabonds, and beg continually; And from their places desolate seek bread for their supply. 11 Let covetous extortioners catch all he hath away: Of all for which he labored hath let strangers make a prey. 12 Let there be none to pity him, let there be none at all That on his children fatherless will let his mercy fall. 13 Let his posterity from earth cut off for ever be, And in the foll'wing age their name be blotted out by thee. 14 Let God his father's wickedness still to remembrance call; And never let his mother's sin be blotted out at all. 15 But let them all before the Lord appear continually, That he may wholly from the earth cut off their memory. 16 Because he mercy minded not, but persecuted still The poor and needy, that he might the broken-hearted kill. 17 As he in cursing pleasure took, so let it to him fall; As he delighted not to bless, so bless him not at all. 18 As cursing he like clothes put on, into his bowels so, Like water, and into his bones, like oil, down let it go. 19 Like to the garment let it be which doth himself array, And for a girdle, wherewith he is girt about alway. 20 From God let this be their reward that en'mies are to me, And their reward that speak against my soul maliciously. 21 But do thou, for thine own name's sake, O God the Lord, for me: Sith good and sweet thy mercy is, from trouble set me free. 22 For I am poor and indigent, afflicted sore am I, My heart within me also is wounded exceedingly. 23 I pass like a declining shade, am like the locust tossed: 24 My knees through fasting weakened are, my flesh hath fatness lost. 25 I also am a vile reproach unto them made to be; And they that did upon me look did shake their heads at me. 26 O do thou help and succor me, who art my God and Lord: And, for thy tender mercy's sake, safety to me afford: 27 That thereby they may know that this is thy almighty hand; And that thou, Lord, hast done the same, they may well understand. 28 Although they curse with spite, yet, Lord, bless thou with loving voice: Let them ashamed be when they rise; thy servant let rejoice. 29 Let thou mine adversaries all with shame be clothèd over; And let their own confüsion them, as a mantle, cover. 30 But as for me, I with my mouth will greatly praise the Lord; And I among the multitude his praises will record. 31 For he shall stand at his right hand who is in poverty, To save him from all those that would condemn his soul to die.