Aug. 13. 1653. <br /> <br /> <br />Lord in thine anger do not reprehend me <br />Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct; <br />Pity me Lord for I am much deject <br />Am very weak and faint; heal and amend me, <br />For all my bones, that even with anguish ake, <br />Are troubled, yea my soul is troubled sore <br />And thou O Lord how long? turn Lord, restore <br />My soul, O save me for thy goodness sake <br />For in death no remembrance is of thee; <br />Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise? <br />Wearied I am with sighing out my dayes. <br />Nightly my Couch I make a kind of Sea; <br />My Bed I water with my tears; mine Eie <br />Through grief consumes, is waxen old and dark <br />Ith' mid'st of all mine enemies that mark. <br />Depart all ye that work iniquitie. <br />Depart from me, for the voice of my weeping <br />The Lord hath heard, the Lord hath heard my prai'r <br />My supplication with acceptance fair <br />The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping. <br />Mine enemies shall all be blank and dash't <br />With much confusion; then grow red with shame, <br />They shall return in hast the way they came <br />And in a moment shall be quite abash't.<br /><br />John Milton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/psalm-06/
