The Perils of the Pilgrim

1Why standest thou farre off, O Lorde, and hidest thee in due time, euen in afflictio?

2The wicked with pride doeth persecute the poore: let them be taken in the craftes that they haue imagined.

3For the wicked hath made boast of his owne heartes desire, and the couetous blesseth himselfe: he contemneth the Lord.

4The wicked is so proude that hee seeketh not for God: hee thinketh alwayes, There is no God.

5His wayes alway prosper: thy iudgements are hie aboue his sight: therefore defieth he all his enemies.

6He saith in his heart, I shall neuer be moued, nor be in danger.

7His mouth is full of cursing and deceite and fraude: vnder his tongue is mischiefe and iniquitie.

8He lieth in waite in the villages: in the secret places doeth hee murther the innocent: his eyes are bent against the poore.

9He lyeth in waite secretly, euen as a lyon in his denne: he lyeth in waite to spoyle the poore: he doeth spoyle the poore, when he draweth him into his net.

10He croucheth and boweth: therefore heaps of the poore doe fall by his might.

11He hath said in his heart, God hath forgotten, he hideth away his face, and will neuer see.

12Arise, O Lorde God: lift vp thine hande: forget not the poore.

13Wherefore doeth the wicked contemne God? he saith in his heart, Thou wilt not regard.

14Yet thou hast seene it: for thou beholdest mischiefe and wrong, that thou mayest take it into thine handes: the poore committeth himselfe vnto thee: for thou art the helper of the fatherlesse.

15Breake thou the arme of the wicked and malicious: searche his wickednes, and thou shalt finde none.

16The Lorde is King for euer and euer: the heathen are destroyed foorth of his land.

17Lorde, thou hast heard the desire of the poore: thou preparest their heart: thou bendest thine eare to them,

18To iudge the fatherlesse and poore, that earthly man cause to feare no more.