Thou didst commauÌ„de straight it was Thy worde so strong we fynde Thyne holy sprite thou sentest out And strayght wayes it was made For nothyng can resist thy word Whiche dures and doth not fade For mountaynes they shall moued be With water from their springes And in thy sight harde thinges shal melt As wexe and liquid thynges And yet to them that doe thee feare Thy mercy doth extende From the fyrste tyme to this present And euer without ende Iob .i. OVt of my mothers wombe All naked came I loe And naked shall I turne agayne To earth that I came fro The Lorde gaue at the fyrst As his good plesure was And at his wyll dyd take agayne As it is come to pas The lorde his holy name Be praysed nowe therfore As it hath bene as it is nowe And shall be euermore Prouerb xxx O Lord two thinges I the require that thou me not denie but that I may the frute therof receiue before I die The first shall be that vanitie Thou wilt from me restrayne And eke the lips that luste to lye To flatterglose and fayne The seconde that thou make me not To poore in any wyse Ne yet to riche but meane lyuyng Of necessary cyse Least when I am to full of welth I thee forget and saye What felowe is the lorde when I Forgotten haue thy waye And lyke wyse least that pouertie Constrayne me out of frame And me prouoke to steale O God And to forsweare thy name Ecclesiasticus .xxiii. ¶ Syng this as I am the man whome God c. OH lorde I the desyre Of thyne abundant grace That pryde scornefull countenance Appeare not in my face Thy goodnes nowe extend Oh for thy mercies sake Disdeyne and all doluptuousnes Witsafe from me to take The fylthy fleshly lustes That to our bodies leane Destroye therof the fyery rage And make me chaste and cleane Of pitie oh good Lorde Extincte in me this fyre And let my mynde be mundifyd Of eche vncleane desyre Oh leaue me not I saye To myne owne lust and wyll Thyne ayde doe not from me withdrawe But be my succour styll Least wanting of thy helpe I runne in error blynde And fall into vnshamfastnes And obstinate of mynde Oh be thou my fortres That I may prayse thy name So shall I other men exhort Also to doe the same ¶ The songe of Esechia Ego dixi in dimidio c. Esaie .xxxviii. ¶ Syng this as I am the man whomâ— God c. VNto the gates of hell I wente I should haue wende Amid my days wheÌ„ as I thought My yeres were at an ende With in my selfe I sayde I neuer shall agayne Visite the Lorde the lorde I saye In this lyfe whyle I reigne I neuer loke agayne Before men to appeare Nor to beholde no worldly wyghtes That haue their dwellyng heare Myne age is folded vp Together at this daye As one should from the shepeherd poore His cottage take away And through my synnes my lyfe Is cut of and vndo As when the weuers worke is done His webbe he cuttes ato This pynyng sycknes wyll My lyfe in sunder rende For in one daye I well perceyuâ— My lyfe shall haue an ende Vntyll to morowe yet I thought to lyue so long But he my bones hath brused sorâ— Moste lyke a gyant strong For in one daye thou wylt Myne ende brynge on me lo As swalowes chatter in their laye Then gan I to doe so I cried lyke the crane And morned as the doue Directyng euer more myne eyes On hyght to hym aboue O lord then sayde I tho This sycknes doth me presse O ease thou me for in thy powre It is the same to ceasse What shall I saye the lorde His proâ—â—s made to me And he hym selfe performed hath The same as we may see All whyle I lyue therfore It shall not from my mynde My bytter life and howe therin I founde hym good and kynde Beyonde their yeres I see O lorde that men may lyue Whiche I to all men wyll declare And knowledge wyll them gyue In those prolonged yeres Howe I in ioye doe reigne And that thou causedst me to slepe And gaue me lyse agayne My pensiâ—nes beholde As bytter was as gall And for my health I longed sorâ— Out of that wofull thrall Thy pleasure was to saue Me from the filthy lake For thou O lorde hast all my sinnes Out trowne behinde thy backe For hell geues thee no prayse Nor death magnificence And in their graue none praise thy truth That parted be from hence The lorde hath wrought my health Our songes we therfore sure Wyll alwayes synge within thy house Whyle our lyfe dayes indure Ieremie .ix. ¶ Syng this as I am the man whome God c. O Who wyll geue my head Of water perfecte store And to mine eyes a wel of teares To flow for euer more So should myne outward acte Expresse myne inwarde payne To wepe and wayle both nyght and day My people that are slayne Would God I had elswhere A cottage in some place That from the people I myght be A farre distance and space That I myght leaue my folke And be from their resorte Adulterers because they be And eke a shrynkyng sorte Lyke bowes they bende their tongues Wherwith they shoote out lyes And grow on earth for why the worlde Doth alwayes truthe despyse From wickednes they goe To wickednes agayne And wyll not knowe me sayth the lorde Nor in my lawes remayne One from an other nowe Abstayn and shurnish muste For no man in his brother may With saftie put his truste Men doe their brethern seke To wrong and vnder mynde Disemblyng styll they practise guyle No truthe in them I fynde Their tongues they exercyse To lye and eke to fayne And mischiefe so they may commyt They force not for great payne Why doe I then remayne In this despitfull throng Whiche doe dissemble and nought els But falshod them among They wyll not knowe the lorde But wander styll awry Therfore thus sayth the lorde of hostes I wyll them melte and try For what should els be done To suche a people vyle Whose tongues are like to arowes sharpe To vtter fraude and guyle For with their mouthes they speake As though they ment but peace To hurte their neyghbour priuily Yet wyll they neuer cease Should I not punysh them For this thyng sayeth the lorde Or should not I aduenged be Of people so abhorde I shall them cause therfore On mountaynes to lament The desertes and the plesant playnes To mourning shall be bent For burned shall they be Their cattell and their store Of byrde or beaste there shall no voyce Be heard there any more Ieremie 17. ¶ Syng this as The sixt of Mathewe if ye reade c. O Lorde I shall be whole in dede It I be healed of the If thou witsafe nowe me to saue â–ª Then shall I saued be Thou arte my prayer and my prayse I haue none other forte To geue thee thankes
wrynge Neither can it be coumpted les In sorowe for to synge As when the Iewes in Babylon Where they were captiue all Commaunded were to playe and synge Of suche as made them thrall Which vaine request of their great foes These miserable Iewes Would not accomplyshe in no wyse But did the same refuse They hangde asyde their instrumentes And laide their songes awaye And knewe it was not tyme to synge But rather for to praye That god would them delyuer once From that their bondage vyle Wherin they had bene punyshed A long and wery whyle But after thre score and tenne yeres When God them home had broughte With holy psalmes to prayse his name They diligently sought And in remembrance of the wo And bondage where they were And ioye of their deliuerance They songe as ye shall here Super flumina Babilonis ONce as we by the ryuers sate That runne in Babylon With bytter teares waylyng our wo When we thought on Sion We layde a syde our thankfull tunes Of honour laude and prayse And hung our harpes on wylow trees That grew there in those dayes Therfore our foes whiche to that land As captiues did vs bryng The more our sorowes to augmente Required vs to sing Cōmaunding vs with spightful scorne And great derision Sing vs quod they some hebrue songs Of your blessed Sion As though it were conuenient Contrary to gods wyll Suche vayne preceptes of wycked men To felowe or fulfyll In suche a lande gods laude to singe With songes of his swete worde Where Images the honor haue That due is to the lorde If euer we Ierusalem So from our myndes consume We wysh our right handes might forget Our harpes to touche in tune And that our tongues within our mouth May cleue we are content When we should vtter any thyng That mynde may vs inuente Thy prayses oh Ierusalem If we preferre not styll Before the moste or greatest ioye That hap may vs vntyll These Edomytes our enemyes Oh lorde remember them Their wyckednes when they destroyde Thyne owne Ierusalem Among them selues thus gan they say Our citie to confounde Destroye and sacke it down with it And rase it to the grounde And thou O daughter Babylon Well worthy of no les Thy mirthe shall turne to misery And thy ioye to distres And he shall be a happy man That with suche lyke agayne Shall the rewarde as thou didst vs With great reprofe and payne Ye blessed shall he be in dede That shall rewarde the once In takyng of thy suckyng babes And dashe them to the stones ¶ An example of Gods prayse for his great care ouer his elect in disapointing their enemies delyueringe them out of the Cxl. Psalme VVHat can the mortall man Inuente deuyse or skan Against the wyll of god Or howe can we withstande Of god the heuy hande His myghty plague and rod What nede we then to care What wicked men prepare With crafte vs to destroye Sythe god the Lorde of all Can bryng vs out of thrall And turne our care to ioye The noble kyng Dauid The lyke thyng hath proued That who so feare the lorde There shall no wyght preuayle Though they doe vs assayle With workes of god abhorde For in his tyme of nede He prayed with all spede To god for helpe and ayde As it doth folowe here And ryght well doth appere What he therin hath sayde Eripe me domine DEliuer me O Lorde Accordyng to thy worde Lorde let me not be shent On me some pitie haue From subtyle wayghtes me saue Of enmies violent In heart they thynke myschiefe And seke to doe me griefe Their tongues they whet so sharpe As aders venym vyle That they may vs begnyle Full wycked wyles they warpe Kepe me O lorde therfore From enmies euer more Whiche wicked be and ill Thy helpe let me not wante For they would me supplante From doyng of thy wyll These proude men they haue sette For me a pryuy nette Where I should out and in Yea and in my pathwaye My soule for to betraye They laye bothe snare and gyn Lorde therfore haue I sayde Thou art myne only ayde Lorde here my depe desyre O Lorde thou art my welth O God my sauing health Graunt me that I require Let not these men vnpure On me take their pleasure Distroye their ill intente They are so proude and haulte That they them selues exalte Therfore let them be shente I meane suche men as be Of their great subtiltie At no tyme vnpreparde Lorde in their owne deceyte Wherwith they layde suche weyke 〈◊〉 their owne fete be snarde Let coles of fyre fall downe And cast them on their crowne And throwe them into hell From whence howe for to ryse There is no tongue so wyse That can them rede or tell Let nothyng prosper well On earth where suche men dwell Reproue their ryche renowne To mischiefe they be wunte With plages therfore them hunte And hedlong throw them downe I knowe the lorde will wounde And viterly confounde All men to pryde adicte And wyll auenge in dede The poore that stande in nede And are thus sore afflicte The ryghteous verely Shall prayse and magnifie Thy holy name therfore The heartes of pure pretence Shall dwell in thy presence Good lorde for euer more ¶ An example howe to prayse God for his almyghty powre and gentylnes Out of the Cxlv. Psalme AS he that would set forth to men The prayse of some good kyng To cause his subiec tes hym to loue And obey in all thynge Doth shew to them his great goodnes His powre and all his myghte That therby he may cause all folke In him to haue delyght And also that his enemies The more may stande in feare And where perhaps they would rebell To cause them to forbeare So Dauid doth gods glory shewe And powre omnipente To make harde hartes that feare not god To soften and relente That they myght come in vnitie Of God and of his lawe And leaueth no good meanes vnsought Them to intyse and drawe That vniformely mortall men Whiche in this worlde doe dwell Myght all agree praysinge the lorde And in vertue excell Whiche if ye staye or stande in doubte Howe to begynne this game Take here a Psalme which will instruct And leade you in the same Exaltabo te deus O God that arte myne only kyng I wyll thee magnify and so set forth thy laude praise To dure eternally From daye to daye euen euery daye Great thankes I wyll thee gyue And prayse thy name for euer more Whyle I haue tyme to lyue Great is the Lorde and meruaylous And worthy of all prayse There is no ende of his greatnes Or magnificent wayes From tyme to tyme for euer more Eche generation To others shall thy powre declare And thy workes evry one And as for me myne only talke Shall worshyp styll thy name Thy glory and thy wondrous workes And prayse the for the same Men of thy workes so meruaylous To speake shall haue
prayse in mynde The noble aray Of martyrs aye Thy prayse doth styll expresse The Church holye Where euer it be The lyke prayse doth confesse Infinitlye Thy maiestye O father doth endure And thy Sonne styll We honour wyll Onely so true and pure The holye ghost Our comforte most We do confesse to be Thou Chryst Iesu Mesias true Art the kynge of glory Thou art euer Of the father The euerlastyng sonne Which we confesse Both more and lesse That in this worlde do wonne When for our sake Thou dyddest take On thee man to restore The wombe so cleene Of the Virgin Thou dyddest not abhorre When thou the darte Of death so sharpe Dydst vanquishe and depriue Thou dydst vnlose Thy blesse to those That truelye dâ— beleue On the ryghte hande We vnderstande Of the father so dere In glorye greate There art thou set Tyll the last day appere Then we beleue Iudgemente to geue That thou from thence shalt come Most ryghteouslye Our iudge to be And iudge vs all and some Thy seruauntes pray Thee day by day Of thee some helpe to haue Whom wyth thy bloude Precious and good Thou dydst redeme and saue Make them indede To be numbred Wyth thy holy sayntes all For euermore Thy face before In glory eternall Thy people saue Whiche on the craue And blesse thyne heritage Gouerne them styll To doe thy wyll Euer from age to age For we dayly Thee magnifie And worshyp styll thy namâ— And styll intende Worlde without ende To continue the same Vouchsafe we praye O lorde this daye From sinne vs to defende For on thyne ayde Oure faith is stayde And euer doth depend Mercy O lorde Haue mercy Lorde Shewe vs thy mercy iuste On vs let lyght Thy mercy bright As we in thee doe truste And synce alway My truste and staye In the lorde is fyxed Oh graunt that I Eternally Be neuer confounded To the father And his sonne dere And to the holy ghoste Glory and prayse Geue we alwayes As we are bounden moste As was and is And shall not mys To be eche tyme and when For euer more Laude and honor To our lorde god Amen ¶ To his friend E. H. at whose requeste the author drue into metre the songe of the three chyldren whiche were put into the whot burning ouen which were called properly in the hebrue tongue Ananias Asarias Misael whose names Nebucadnezer chaÌ„ged into Cidrach Misach and Abednago in the Chaldey tongue Written Daniel in MY louyng friende Your boune and mynde Doth seme to me this tyde As Phaet on vayne Should once againe The sonne his chariot guide Who folyshly Immediatly May set the world on fire Till Ioue almight Most iust and right Doe sley him in his Ire Or one vnwise Should enterpryse To make or cause tapere From flynt stones dure Swete fountaynes pure Of waters cristall clerâ— Yet for to chuse Or once refuse Your most frendly request Is not in me Nor can not be At any time possest Therfore take well This small cantell Of my due and good will Though momus secte Then it reiecte No force it shall not skyll BLessed be thou O lorde god nowe The god of our fathers For thou alwayes Arte worthy prayse And of all great honers The name holy Of thy glory Worthy to be praysed Styll in worldes all Continuall Is to be magnified Be thou blessed In euery sted Of thy temple holy Whiche doste vs moue All thynges aboue To set vp thy glory More then worthy Thou arte truly Of laude and prayse eche daye Wherfore euer We wyll preferre And set the vp for aye Blessed alone In thy hyghe throne Be thou in thy kyngdom Thee aboue all We styll blesse shall In worlde of worldes to come Blessed be thou That lokest throwe The depe and yet doste syt The Cherubes on Worthy alone Of prayse descruing it The fyrmament And heauens hente Thee prayse which arte worthy For thy fauour Of all honoure Vnto eternitie Benedicite omnia opera Domini domino OYe workes all In generall Of god the lyuing Lorde Se that his prayse Ye shewe alwayes Set vp and it recorde Ye angels bryghte And heauens lyght And waters all aboue The fyrmament With one consent Prayse hym as doth behoue The lorde his powres Sonne Moone in cours Tell and shewe forth his prayse And neuer let Hym vp to set In his due laude alwayes O all ye sterres Dewe and showers O all ye wynds of God His prayse tell ye Hym magnifye As in his worde he bod Heate and fyer Wynter sommer Ye dewes and frostes hore Ye frost and coulde His prayse be boulde To set forth euermore O Ise and snowe His prayse forth showe Hym laude and magnifye Ye nyghtes and dayes With the lyke prayse Laude hym eternally Lyght and darknes His prayse expresse Lyghtnyng and cloudes I saye Let the earth speake And his prayse breake Forth for euer and aye Mountaines and hilles With your good wylles Herbes grasse al grene things Welles seas and flood Of hym speake good And declare his praysyngs Ye whales that lyue And all that meue In floodes and waters clere All soules of thayre Lykewyse repayre To make his prayse appere Bestes and cattâ—ll His prayse forth tell Ye chyldren of men pure Let Israell In prayse excell For euer to endure With one accorde Prayse ye the lorde That the lordes seruantes are Sprites and soules iust His prayse syng must Hym set vp and declare Let holy men Prayse hym eche when And humble men of harte With good pretence Euer from hence From his prayse neuer starte Ananias Azarias And Misaell prefer His prayses great And hym vp set For euer and euer Whiche hath from hell Vs saued well And clene delyuered And hath our breath Kepte safe from death And also hath vs ryd From burnyng flame Amydste the same And made the heate retire When we dyd craue He dyd vs saue In the mydst of the fyre Vnto the lorde Let vs recorde Both prayse and thankes therfore His hearte is kynde For we doe fynde His mercy euermore O all men ryght That are contryte Speake good and prayse the lorde For he truly Is almyghtie And of all gods the God O geue him prayse With thankes alwayes Whose mercy doth extende And doth indure Remayning pure Euer worlde without ende Prayse glorious Euer let vs Magnificently moste Geue the father And the sonne dere And to the holy ghoste From beginning Continuyng And nowe doth perseuer And shall doe aye From daye to daye For euer and euer Numeri .xiii. ¶ Sing this as The dawnyng daye beginnes to glare c. LEt now thy powre be great O lorde Lyke as thy lyps dyd once repeate And as we fynde it in thy worde Thy suffrance long thy mercy great For as thou doste our synnes forgyue And trespasses when we repent So are we sure no man on lyue From synne is free and innocent And of their father the misdede Thou visitest vpon the childe His generation and his
As it is yll it would appere Vnto these wrathfull men Or he that cunnyng had In meâ—re to recite Both soule and body how it noyâ—s As sheweth holy write Then should these wrathfull men That anger wyll sustayne Perceaue the incommodities That therwith doo remayne Concernyng body fyrste Diseases it doth bryng As fâ—uers vyle of euery kynd Whiche mortally doo styng It causeth phrenesie And madnes of the brayneâ— Of visage great deformyrie And palscys this is playne Concernyng soule also The whiche is worste of all It maketh men blaspheme their â—rendes And euell them to call Outrage and wycked othes And loue put out of place Reuengement is theyr whole desyre That banysht be from grace All benefytes forgot That to thee dyd thy frende Obedience true and reuerence Wrathe putteth out of mynde Wherof succedeth oft Contention full of cost By trouble and vnquiet mynde Thyne appetite is lost To scorne dysdeyne and hate Ye thynke it is no shame All though nothyng can hynder more A good report or name These wycked fruites of wrathe Remember he that can Full lytle haste as I suppose To wrathe they would haue than Harke and geue eare ye men That thus to wrath are bent Attend a whyle vnto my tune And holde your selfe content For as thou art a man Thynke also so â—â— he With whoÌ„ thou doest coÌ„ceiue such cause So wrathfull for to be Is it not laufull then And as conuenyent That he with thee should be as wrathe And as muche discontent Leaue of your wrath therfore I saye to you agayne Assure your selues that angry men Doo alway lyue in payne And calle to mynde howe Christ The sonne of God moste hye Whyche in a moment by hys powâ—â— Hys enmies myght destroye How dyd the Iewes hym greue â–ª Hauyng no cause wherwre Hys most swete face they strake in spight And buffeted hym sore It nothyng irked them At hym to spyt in scorne Wyth wytnesse wrong accusyng hym And crowned hym with thorne Hys vertous body lo. They haled to and fro An heauy Crosse on hym they laydâ— The more to doo hym wo. All faultlesse as a lambe To suffer deathe he went They dyd hys body all to beate And yet was he content They naylde hym on the crosse Thys shoulde we beare in mynde Thys suffred he of his good wyll For Moses in this zeale The Tables brake of stone In whych God with hys fynger wrote His ten precepts eche one As Dauid ment when he Ryght holyly dyd saye Be angery but doo not synne By no maner of way It was in Christe also As holy wryt dothe tell When he out of the temple whypâ— Those that dyd buye and sell Within his holy place Where nothyng els should be But prayer to the lyuyng God In secrete that doeth see And at an other tyme It shewde in hym agayne The hypocrites when he rebukâ— As Mathew telleth playne This symple song all ye That heare or doo it reade It is enough to cause you all Of wrathe to take good hede Of synfull wycked wrathe Beware in any wyse To all men that haue wyt in store Let this as nowe suffyse In hearyng of theyr faultes That they may mend them soone And aftâ—r stand at Gods ryght hand When they receyue theyr doome ¶ An Inuectiue agaynst wrathe â–ª Syng thys as The lyuyng God our only Lorde that c. SAlomon sayth A foole his guyse Is to be wrath immediatly But he is to be counted wyse That well can hyde hys iniury Therfore saynt Paule doth say of trauth Let not the sunne rest on your wrath And Plato beyng demaunded Wherby a wise man knowne should be Sayd yf wyse men be rebuked Therwith they wyll not be angry Therfore saint Paule doth say of trauth Let not the sonne rest on your wrath By as also dothe ryght well shewe Of wrath the discommoditie Saying that it in hygh and lowe To counsayle is chiefe enemye Therfore saint Paule doth say of trauth Let not the sonne rest on your wrathe The chiefest helpe agaynst the same Seneca dothe describe ryght playne Take Pacience that godly dame In her syght wrath can not remayne Therfore saint Paule doth saye of trauth Let not the sonne reste on your wrath Of wrathfull men it is the wunt To sowe discorde with eche estate But pacience doth alwayes hunte For to appease strife and debate Therfore saint Paule doth say of trauth Let not the sonne reste on your wrath Therfore with men replete with ire Vse no familiaritie And those whom wrath sone settes on fyre Byde thou not in their company But as saint Paule doth saye of trauth Let not the sonne reste on thy wrath As sayth saint Iames be swyft to heare The thyng that may thee edifie Be slowe in speache in lyke maner But slowe to wrath especially For why saint Paule doth say of trauth Let not the sonne reste on your wrath By wrath as sayth saint Gregory Wysdome is hid and out of syght And puts all out of memory That should be done by wisdomes myght Therfore saynt Paule doth saye of trauth Let not the sonne reste on your wrath My brethern here to make an ende I you commit to pacience As seruantes true doe you intende To serue hyr grace with diligence Because saynt Paule doth say of trauth Let not the sonne reste on your wrath ¶ Against drunkennes and gluttony ¶ Syng this as Of Ielousy who so wyll heare c. ADrunken workeman certeynly By labour neuer getteth ought A lyttle he settes nothyng by But from a litle commes to nought For learned men howe may suffice Their wyne in litle quantitie So in their reste and exercise It doth none incommoditie Wo be to those that early ryse The prophet sayth to make great haste And drynke tyll nyght as is their guyse Tyll reason banysht be at laste A drunkard as saint Austen sayth Offendeth nature very sore Castyng asyde both grace and fayth He hedlong runnes to hell therfore The moderate vse of drynke and meate No wyse man hateth this is true But luste inordinate and great Ought euery good man to eschue Saynt Ierome sayth Cursed be they That in theyr meate haue suche delyte That reason can not cease nor stay Theyr vyle and gredy appetite Saynt Ambrose playnly doth expresse A worse to serue can none inuent Then gluttony that yll maystresse Desyryng styll and nere content Nor nothyng more infaciate Then glottons bellyes most lyke hell For that whych they receyued late Ryght early they agayne expell These farsted panches aye abhorre Good continence and chastitie Before digestion they craue more Forsakyng vertue fyithyly All Christians therfore I exhort Voluptuous excesse to forbeare To moderation now resorte And frugally lyue in gods feare ¶ Lecherie rebuked Syng this as On tabrets to the Lorde c. LIke as the fowâ—er wyth hys bayte Soone brynges the byrd in snate So are mens soules through lechery Destroyde yer they be ware For lechery Gods ennemy With vertue is not plaste Of