Verse > Anthologies > Edward Farr, comp. > Elizabethan Poetry
Edward Farr, ed.  Select Poetry of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth.  1845.
Psalme XVI
VI. Sir Philip Sidney and the Countess of Pembroke
Conserva me.

SAVE me, Lord; for why? thou art
All the hope of all my hart:
  Wittnesse thou, my soule, with me,
That to God, my God, I say,
Thou, my Lord, thou art my stay,        5
  Though my workes reach not to thee.
This is all the best I prove:
Good and godly men I love;
  And forsee their wretched paine,
Who to other gods doe runne:        10
Their blood-offerings I do shunne;
  Nay, to name their names disdaine.
God my only portion is,
And of my childes part the bliss:
  He then shall maintaine my lott.        15
Say then, is not my lott found
In a goodly pleasant ground?
  Have not I faire partage gott?
Ever, Lord, I will blesse thee,
Who dost ever councell me:        20
  Ev’n when Night with his black wing,
Sleepy Darknes, doth orecast,
In my inward raines I tast
  Of my faultes and chastening.
My eyes still my God reguard,        25
And he my right hand doth guard;
  So can I not be opprest,
So my hart is fully gladd,
So in joy my glory cladd:
  Yea, my flesh in hope shall rest.        30
For I know the deadly grave
On my soule noe pow’r shall have:
  For I know thou wilt defend
Even the body of thine own
Deare beloved holy one        35
  From a fowle corrupting end.
Thou life’s path wilt make me knowe,
In whose view doth plenty growe
  All delights that soules can crave;
And whose bodies placed stand        40
On thy blessed-making hand,
  They all joies like-endless have.

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