Edward Farr, ed. Select Poetry of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth. 1845.
Psalme LXXXIVCVII. John Hopkins
H
O Lord of hostes, to me!
The tabernacles of thy grace,
How pleasant, Lord, they be!
My soule doth long full sore to goe
Into thy courtes abroad;
My heart doth lust, my flesh also,
In thee the liuing Lord.
And saue themselues from wrong;
And eke the swallow hath a nest
Wherein to keepe her young.
These birdes full nigh thine altar may
Haue place to sit and sing:
O Lord of hosts, thou art, I say,
My God and eke my King.
Within thy house alwaies;
For they all times thy facts do tell,
And euer giue thee praise.
Yea, happy sure likewise are they
Whose stay and strength thou art;
Which to thy house do minde the way,
And seeke it in their heart.
They dig vp fountaines still;
That as a spring it all appeares,
And thou their pits doest fill.
From strength to strength they walke full fast,
No faintnes there shall be;
And so the God of gods at last
In Sion they do see.
And heare when I doe pray;
And let it through thine eares proceede,
O Jacob’s God, I say.
O Lord our shield, of thy good grace
Regard, and so draw neare;
Regard, I say, behold the face
Of thine annoynted deare.
Is better to abide,
Then other where to keepe or stay
A thousand daies beside.
Much rather would I keepe a doore
Within the house of God,
Then in the tents of wickednesse
To settle mine abode.
Will grace and worship giue;
And no good thing shall he withold
From them that purely liue.
O Lord of hostes, that man is blest,
And happy sure is he,
That is perswaded in his brest
To trust all times in thee.