Classic Poem

It is most true that God to Israel,
I mean to men of undefiled hearts,
Is only good, and nought but good imparts.
Most true, I see, albe almost I fell
From right conceit into a crooked mind;
And from this truth with straying steps declined.
For lo, my boiling breast did chafe and swell
When first I saw the wicked proudly stand,
Prevailing still in all they took in hand.
And sure no sickness dwelleth where they dwell:
Nay, so they guarded are with health and might,
It seems of them death dares not claim his right.

They seem as privileged from others' pain:
The scourging plagues, which on their neighbours fall,
Torment not them, nay touch them not at all.
Therefore with pride, as with a gorgeous chain,
Their swelling necks encompassed they bear,
All clothed in wrong, as if a robe it were:
So fat become, that fatness doth constrain
Their eyes to swell; and if they think on aught,
Their thought they have, yea have beyond their thought.
They wanton grow, and in malicious vein
Talking of wrong, pronounce as from the skies.
So high a pitch their proud presumption flies!

Nay heaven itself, high heaven escapes not free
From their base mouths; and in their common talk
Their tongues no less than all the earth do walk.
Wherefore even godly men, when so they see
Their horn of plenty freshly flowing still,
Leaning to them, bend from their better will;
And thus, they reasons frame: how can it be
That God doth understand? that he doth know,
Who sits in heaven, how earthly matters go?
See here the godless crew, while godly we
Unhappy pine, all happiness possess:
Their riches more, our wealth still growing less.

Nay even within my self, my self did say:
In vain my heart I purge, my hands in vain
In cleanness washed I keep from filthy stain,
Since thus afflictions scourge me every day;
Since never a day from early east is sent
But brings my pain, my check, my chastisement.
And shall I then these thoughts in words bewray?
O let me, Lord, give never such offence
To children thine that rest in thy defence.
So then I turned my thoughts another way,
Sounding, if I this secret's depth might find;
But cumbrous clouds my inward sight did blind.

Until at length nigh weary of the chase,
Unto thy house I did my steps direct:
There, lo, I learned what end did these expect,
And what? but that in high but slippery place
Thou didst them set: whence when they least of all
To fall did fear, they fell with headlong fall.
For how are they in less than moment's space
With ruin overthrown? with frightful fear
Consumed so clean, as if they never were?
Right as a dream, which waking doth deface.
So, Lord, most vain thou dost their fancies make,
When thou dost them from careless sleep awake.

Then for what purpose was it? to what end
For me to fume with malcontented heart,
Tormenting so in me each inward part?
I was a fool (I can it not defend),
So quite deprived of understanding might
That as a beast I bare me in thy sight.
But as I was, yet did I still attend,
Still follow thee, by whose upholding hand,
When most I slide, yet still upright I stand.
Then guide me still, then still upon me spend
The treasures of thy sure advice, until
Thou take me hence into thy glory's hill.

O what is he will teach me climb the skies?
With thee, thee good, thee goodness to remain?
No good on earth doth my desires detain.
Often my mind and oft my body tries
Their weak defects: but thou, my God, thou art
My endless lot and fortress of my heart.
The faithless fugitives who thee despise
Shall perish all, they all shall be undone,
Who leaving thee to whorish idols run.
But as for me, nought better in my eyes
Than cleave to God, my hopes in him to place,
To sing his works while breath shall give me space.