To Mr. Cyriack Skinner upon his Blindness.

Cyriack, this three years day these eys, though clear
To outward view, of blemish or of spot;
Bereft of light thir seeing have forgot,
Nor to thir idle orbs doth sight appear
Of Sun or Moon or Starre throughout the year,
Or man or woman. Yet I argue not

Against heavns hand or will, nor bate a jot
Of heart or hope; but still bear vp and steer
Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask?

The conscience, Friend, to have lost them overply'd 10
In libertyes defence, my noble task,

Of which all Europe talks from side to side.

This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask
Content though blind, had I no better guide.

PSAL. I. Done into Verse, 1653.

BLESS'D is the man who hath not walk'd astray
In counsel of the wicked, and ith'way
Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat
Of scorners hath not sate. But in the great
Jehovahs Law is ever his delight,
And in his Law he studies day and night.
He shall be as a tree which planted grows
By watry streams, and in his season knows
To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall,
And what he takes in hand shall prosper all.
Not so the wicked, but as chaff which fann'd
The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand
In judgment, or abide their tryal then,
Nor sinners in th'assembly of just men.
For the Lord knows th'upright way of the just,
And the way of bad men to ruine must.

PSAL. II. Done Aug. 8. 1653. Terzetti.

WHY do the Gentiles tumult, and the Nations

Muse a vain thing, the Kings of th'earth upstand With power, and Princes in their Congregations Lay deep their plots together through each Land, Against the Lord and his Messiah dear.

Let us break off, say they, by strength of hand Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear, Their twisted cords: he who in Heaven doth dwell Shall laugh, the Lord shall scoff them, then severe Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell

And fierce ire trouble them; but I saith hee
Anointed have my King (though ye rebell)
On Sion my holi' hill. A firm decree

I will declare; the Lord to me hath say'd
Thou art my Son I have begotten thee
This day; ask of me, and the grant is made ;
As thy possession I on thee bestow

Th'Heathen, and as thy conquest to be sway'd
Earths utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full low
With Iron Scepter bruis'd, and them disperse
Like to a potters vessel shiver'd so.

And now be wise at length ye Kings averse
Be taught ye Judges of the earth; with fear
Jehovah serve, and let your joy converse
With trembling; kiss the Son least he appear
In anger and ye perish in the way

If once his wrath take fire like fuel sere.
Happy all those who have in him their stay.

PSAL. III. Aug. 9. 1653.
When he fled from Absalom.

LORD how many are my foes
How many those

That in arms against me rise

Many are they

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That of my life distrustfully thus say,
No help for him in God there lies.
But thou Lord art my shield my glory,
Thee through my story

Th' exalter of my head I count
Aloud I cry'd

Unto Jehovah, he full soon reply'd
And heard me from his holy mount.
I lay and slept, I wak'd again,
For my sustain

Was the Lord. Of many millions
The populous rout

I fear not though incamping round about
They pitch against me their Pavillions.
Rise Lord, save me my God for thou

Hast smote ere now

On the cheek-bone all my foes,

Of men abhor'd

Hast broke the teeth. This help was from the Lord; Thy blessing on thy people flows.

PSAL. IV. Aug. 10. 1653.

ANSWER me when I call

God of my righteousness;
In straights and in distress
Thou didst me disinthrall

And set at large; now spare,

Now pity me, and hear my earnest prai'r.

Great ones how long will ye

My glory have in scorn

How long be thus forborn

Still to love vanity,

To love, to seek, to prize

Things false and vain and nothing else but lies?

Yet know the Lord hath chose

Chose to himself a part

The good and meek of heart

(For whom to chuse he knows)

Jehovah from on high

Will hear my voyce what time to him I crie.

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Be aw'd, and do not sin,
Speak to your hearts alone,
Upon your beds, each one,
And be at peace within.
Offer the offerings just

Of righteousness and in Jehovah trust.
Many there be that say

Who yet will shew us good?

Talking like this worlds brood;

But Lord, thus let me pray,

On us lift up the light

Lift up the favour of thy count'nance bright.

Into my heart more joy

And gladness thou hast put

Then when a year of glut

Their stores doth over-cloy

And from their plenteous grounds

With vast increase their corn and wine abounds.

In peace at once will I

Both lay me down and sleep

For thou alone dost keep

Me safe where ere I lie

As in a rocky Cell

Thou Lord alone in safety mak'st me dwell.

PSAL. V. Aug. 12. 1653.

JEHOVAH to my words give ear

My meditation waigh

The voyce of my complaining hear
My King and God for unto thee I pray.
Jehovah thou my early voyce

Shalt in the morning hear

Ith'morning I to thee with choyce

Will rank my Prayers, and watch till thou appear.
For thou art not a God that takes

In wickedness delight

Evil with thee no biding makes

Fools or mad men stand not within thy sight.

All workers of iniquity

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Thou hat'st; and them unblest
Thou wilt destroy that speak a ly

The bloodi' and guileful man God doth detest.
But I will in thy mercies dear

Thy numerous mercies go

Into thy house; I in thy fear

Will towards thy holy temple worship low.
Lord lead me in thy righteousness
Lead me because of those

That do observe if I transgress,

Set thy wayes right before, where my step goes.
For in his faltring mouth unstable

No word is firm or sooth

Their inside, troubles miserable;

An open grave their throat, their tongue they smooth.
God, find them guilty, let them fall

By their own counsels quell'd;

Push them in their rebellions all

Still on; for against thee they have rebell'd ;
Then all who trust in thee shall bring

Their joy, while thou from blame
Defend'st them, they shall ever sing

And shall triumph in thee, who love thy name.
For thou Jehovah wilt be found

To bless the just man still,

As with a shield thou wilt surround
Him with thy lasting favour and good will.

PSAL. VI. Aug. 13. 1653.

LORD in thine anger do not reprehend me
Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct;

Pity me Lord for I am much deject

Am very weak and faint; heal and amend me, For all my bones, that even with anguish ake,

Are troubled, yea my soul is troubled sore; And thou O Lord how long? turn Lord, restore My soul, O save me for thy goodness sake For in death no remembrance is of thee;

Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise? Wearied I am with sighing out my dayes, Nightly my Couch I make a kind of Sea;

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