Christian meditations upon eight Psalms of the prophet David. Made and newly set forthChristian meditations vpon eight Psalmes of the prophet Dauid. Made and newly set forth

O God, O God? And darest thou name this most sacred name, thou mischievous mouth of so mischievous a ⟨image 34⟩man? having polluted thy self with so many adulterous kisses, foul mouth, undertakest thou to name it thou enemy of all uncleanness? Thou traitorous tongue against thy faithful servant Uriah, canst thou pronounce this word, GOD, who is most true? Ye hands embrued with many murders, presume you so far as to follow that bold tongue, heaving up your selves toward him, whom you have so shamefully profaned? Thou heart, guilty of the whole law broken at one blow, art thou so hardy as to address thee to him, who hath already judged thee? O king, so many ways perjured against him, that of a poor shepheardly boy, promoted thee above the throne of all this worlds monarchs: Thou hypocrite towards him, who hath performed ⟨image 35⟩formed thee infinitely more then ever he promised thee: wretched man, which hast trampled under feet the covenant of eternal life, to make an adulteress of a chaste wife: unhappy man, who hast laid that most precious name open to the blasphemies of infidel nations: O thou ingrate, which hast rendered to thy loyal servant death for his wages: O thou unworthy one, that, where thou owedst to thy people all justice, hast showed them the way to all mischief: livest thou yet, speakest thou yet? darest thou call upon thy God yet? Yea, my God, so great is thy patience, that it gives me heart again, not to name thee by way of complaint against mine enemies, as in some other Psalms I have done: but even my self to be mine own accuser ⟨image 35⟩and judge against my self. In sum, what can he, or what will he say, who was once thy dear David by thy more then most liberal bounty, but now is nothing like David, through his own more then most detestable ingratitude? In sum, I say, he sayeth,¹ Have pity on me, O God of mercy: and what manner of pity? True it is, Lord, that thy mercy is always infinite in it self, but such is the multitude of my trespasses, that surely me thinks one only mercy would not be enough for me: wherefore I beseech thee, unfold here all the store of thy compassions, that I may feel them.