XVIII. William Byrd

O LORD, how long wilt thou forget

To send mee some reliefe?

For euer wilt thou hide thy face,

And so increase my griefe?

How long shall I, with waxed heart,

Seeke councell in my sprite?

How long shall my malicious foes

Triumph, and me despite?

O Lord, my God, heare my complaint,

Vttered with wofull breath;

Lighten mine eies; defend my life,

That I sleep not in death:

Least that mine enemie say, I haue

Against him, loe, preuayled:

At my downefall they will reioyce,

That thus haue me assayl’d.

But in thy mercie, Lord, I trust,

For that shall mee defend:

My hart doth ioy to see the help

Which thou to mee wilt send.

Vnto the Lord, therefore, I sing,

And doe lift vp my voyce;

And for his goodnesse shew’d to mee

I will alway reioyce.