XLVI. Joseph Bryan

O GOD, from them that grudge me

Preserue me by thy name;

And by thy power iudge me,

And put my foes to shame.

Oh heare my supplication,

For I am poore and weake;

Heare, heare with acceptation

The teare-dew’d words I speake.

For strangers haue insulted

In pride on my poore state;

Fell tyrants haue consulted

My soule to ruynate.

Those tyrants haue not placed

Thy feare before their face,

But would haue me defaced—

Me, me, that thee embrace.

Behold, yee godly-liuers,

God help to me doth send,

And to my succour-giuers

Is an assisting friend.

With plagues he shall repay them

That causeles are my foes:

O cut them off and slay them;

Thy truth is my repose.

My fatlings then I’ll tender,

And offrings to thee make,

And praise to thee I’ll render

For thy great mercies’ sake.

Thou hast freed me from troble,

And my long teare-fraught eies

Haue seene thy plagues redoble

Vpon mine enemies.