A10192:78
A tragedy of Abraham's sacrifice, written in frenchA tragedie of Abrahams sacrifice, written in french
A tragedy of Abraham's sacrifice, written in french by Theodore Beza, and translated into English, by A.G. Finished at Powles Belchamp in Essex, the xj. of August. 1575A tragedie of Abrahams sacrifice, written in french by Theodore Beza, and translated into Inglish, by A.G. Finished at Povvles Belchamp in Essex, the xj. of August. 1575
London: printed by Thomas Vautroullier, 1577
Title page typeset from the transcription.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
Abraham. Of truth no better can a man devise, Than of the Lord to sing the excellence, For none can pay him other recompense For all his gifts which daily he doth send, Than in the same, his goodness to commend.
Abraham. Of truth no better can a man deuise, Than of the Lord to sing the excellence, For none can pay him other recompence For all his giftes which daily he doth send, Than in the same, his goodnes to commend.
The Song of Abraham and Sarah. Come on then, let us now begin to sing with hearts in one accord, The praises of the sovereign heavenly king our only God and Lord. His only hand doth give us whatsoever We have, or shall hereafter have for ever. It is only he that doth maintain the he aven that is so hie, So large in compass and in space so main: and eke the starry sky, The course whereof he stablished hath so sure, That ay withouten fail it doth endure. The scorching heat of summer he doth make, the harvest and the spring: And winters cold that maketh folk to quake, in season he doth bring. Both wethers, fair, and foul, both sea & land, Both night and day be ruled by his hand. Alas good Lord! and what are we that thou ⟨p. 5⟩didst choose and entertain Only us of all the world, and now doth safely us maintain So long a time from all the wicked routs In town & country where we come throughout Thou of thy goodness drewest us away from places that are given To serve false gods: and at this present day hast wanderingly us driven, To travel still among a thousand dangers, In nations unto whom we be but strangers. The land of Egypt in our chiefest need thou madst to have a care, Thy servants bodies to maintain and feed with fine and wholesome fare, And in the end compelledst pharaoh, Full sore against his will, to let us go. Four mighty Kings that were already gone away with victory, I overtook and put to flight anon before they could me spy. And so I saw the fields all stained red With blood of those which through my sword lay dead. From God received well this benefit: For he doth mind us still, As his deer friends in whom he doth delight, ⟨p. 6⟩