Support the Pillar of the Roman State,
Left all men be involv'd in one man's fate,

Continue us in Wealth and Peace.
Let Wars and Tumalts ever
tours and Tummits eve

CATULLUS.

Tantò poffimus omnium Poeta,A 2

Quantò tu optimus omnium Patronus.

The worst of Poets I

felf declare,

my en

By how much you the best of Patrons are.

2 प

On SALMASIUS. VICT

Quis expedivit Salmafio fuam Hundredam,
Picamque docuit, verba noftra conari?
Magifter artis venter, & Facobei
Centum, exulantis vifcera marfupii regis.
Quòd fi dolofi fpes refulferit nummi,

Ipfe, Antichrifti modo qui primatum Papal aid his of

Minatus uno eft diffipare fufflatu,

Cantabit uliro Cardinalitium Melos,

Who taught Salmafius, that French chattering Pye,

To aim at English, and Hundreda cry ?
The ftarving Rafcal, flufht with just a hundred
English Jacobus's Hundreda blunder'd;

A hundred more

An Outlaw'd King's laft Stock.-
Wou'd make him pimp for th' Antichristian Whore ;
And in Rome's Praife employ his poifon'd Breath,
Who threatned once to stink the Pope to Death.

PSALM

B

PSALM I.

Done into VERSE, 1653.

Lefs'd is the man, who hath not walk'd aftray
In counsel of the Wicked, and i'th' way
Ot finners hath not stood, and in the feat
Of fcorners hath not fat: but in the great
Jehovah's Law is ever his delight,
And in his Law he ftudies day and night:
He fhall be as a tree, which planted grows
By watry streams, and in his feafon knows
To yield his fruit, and his leaf fhall not fall;
And what he takes in hand shall prosper all.
Not fo the wicked; but as chaff which fann'd
The wind drives, fo the wicked shall not stand
In judgment, or abide their trial then,
Nor finners in th' affembly of just mer.
For the Lord knows th' upright way of the just,
And the way of bad men to ruin must.

PsAL. II. done Aug. 8. 1653. Terzette.

WE

HY do the Gentiles tumult, and the Nations Mufe a vain thing, the Kings of th' Earth upstand With pow'r, and Princes in their Congregations Lay deep their plots together through each Land Against the Lord and his Meffiah dear?

Let us break off, fay they, by ftrength of hand Their bonds, and caft from us, no more to wear, Their twisted cords. He who in Heav'n doth dwell Shall laugh, the Lord fhall fcoff them, then fevere T Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell And fierce ire trouble them; bnt I, faith he, Anointed have my King (though ye rebel) -On Sion's holy hill. A firm decree

I will declare; The Lord to me hath faid,
Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee
This day; afk of me, and the grant is made:
As thy poffeffion, I on thee beftow

Th' Heathen, and, as thy Conqueft to be fway'd,
Earth's utmoft bonds: them fhalt thou bring full low
With Iron Scepter bruis'd, and them disperse
Like to a potter's veflel fhiver'd fo.

And now be wife at length, ye Kings averse,
Be taught, ye Judges of the Earth; with fear.
Jehovah ferve, and let your joy converfe
With trembling; kifs the Son left he appear
In anger, and ye perish in the way,

If once his wrath take fire like fuel fere;
Happy all thofe who have in him their stay.

PSAL

PSALM III. Aug. 9. 1653. I

When he fled from Abfalom.

Lord, how many are my foes!

many

That in arms against me rife!
Many are they,

That of my life diftruftfully thus fay,
No help for him in God there lies.
But thou, Lord, art my fhield, my glory,
Thee through my ftory

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

Unto Jehovah; he full foon reply'd,
And heard me from his holy mount.
I lay and flept, I wak'd again,

For my fuftain Was the Lord.

Of many millions

The populous rout

I fear not, though encamping round about
They pitch againft me their Pavilions.
Rife, Lord, fave me, my God, for thou
Haft fmote ere now

On the cheek-bone all my foes,

Of men abhorr'd

Haft broke the teeth. This help was from the Lord Thy bleffing on thy people flows.

PSAL

A

Nfwer me, when I call,
God of my righteousness,

In ftraights and in distress
Thou didit me difinthrall
And fet at large; now spare,

Now pity me, and hear my earnest pray'r.
Great ones, how long will ye

My glory have in scorn;

How long be thus forborn

Still to love vanity,

To love, to feek, to prize

Things falfe and vain, and nothing else but lyes ?

Yet know, the Lord hath chofe,

Chofe to himself apart,

The good and meek of heart:

(For whom to choose he knows.)

Jehovah from on high

Will hear my voice what time to him I cry. Be aw'd, and do not fin;

Speak to your hearts alone,

Upon your beds, each one,

And be at peace within:

Offer the offerings just

Of righteoufnefs, and in Jehovah trust.

Many there be that fay,

Who yet will fhew us good?

Talking like this world's brood:

But, Lord, thus let me pray,

On us lift up the light,

Lift up the favour of thy countenance bright.

Into my heart more joy

And gladness thou haft put,

Than when a year of glut