Scripture Verse

O Lord, rebuke me not in Thy wrath: neither chasten me in Thy hot displeasure. Psalm 38:1


The Plague of Rome
Jules-Elie Delauney (1828–1891)

Words: From The Psalms of Da­vid, in Metre (New York: H. Con­nel­ly, 1849).

Music: Wind­sor Chris­to­pher Tye, 1533. Ar­ranged in the Booke of Mu­sicke, by Will­iam Da­man, 1591 (🔊 pdf nwc).

If you know where to get a good pic­ture of Tye or Da­man (head-and-shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els), would you ?


In Thy great indignation, Lord,
Do Thou rebuke me not;
Nor on me lay Thy chastening hand,
In Thy displeasure hot.

For in me fast Thine arrows stick,
Thy hand doth press me sore;
And in my flesh there is no health,
Nor soundness any more.

This grief I have because Thy wrath
Is forth against me gone;
And in my bones there is no rest,
For sin that I have done.

Because gone up above my head
My great transgressions be;
And, as a weighty burden, they
Too heavy are for me.

My wounds are putrid and corrupt;
My folly makes it so.
I troubled am, and much bowed down;
All day I mourning go.

For a disease which loathsome is
So fills my loins with pain,
That in my weak and weary flesh
No soundness doth remain.

So feeble and infirm am I,
And broken am so sore,
That, through disquiet of my heart,
I have been made to roar.

O Lord, all that I do desire
Is still before Thy eye;
And of my heart the secret groans
Not hidden are from Thee.

My heart doth pant incessantly,
My strength doth quite decay;
As for my eyes, their wonted light
Is from me gone away.

My lovers and my friends do stand
At distance from my sore;
And they do stand aloof who were
Kinsmen and kind before.

Yea, they who seek my life lay snares;
And they who would me wrong
Have spoken mischief, and deceits
Imagined all day long.

But as one deaf, I did not hear,
I suffered all to pass;
And as a dumb man I became,
Whose mouth not opened was.

As one that hears not, in whose mouth
Are no reproofs at all:
For, Lord, I hope in Thee, my God
Will hear me when I call.

Because I said, Hear me, lest they
Rejoice o’er me with pride;
And o’er me magnify themselves,
Because my foot doth slide.

For I am near to halt, my grief
Is still before my eye;
I will declare my sin, and grieve
For my iniquity.

But yet my foes are full of life,
My enemies are strong;
And they are greatly multiplied
Who hate and would me wrong.

And they for good who render ill,
As en’mies me withstood;
They are my bitter foes because
I follow what is good.

Forsake me not, O Lord; my God,
Far from me never be.
O Lord, Thou my salvation art,
In haste give help to me.