Mary Herbert, Countess of Pembroke


Psalm 75 :  Confitebimur Tibi


Wee O God to thee do sing
Wee to thee do prayses bring
        For thy name is nigh
When our cause assistance needs
        Us with succour to supply
Therfore saved wondrously
We recount thy wondrous deeds.

As for me, when so they shall
Under my direction fall
        Who to me pertain
Righteous doome shall banish wrong
        This loose hand I will again
        Into sounder site restrain,
I will make her Pillars strong.

I will say to braggards then
Bragg no more to wicked men,
        Set not up your horn,
Set not up your horn on high
        Be no more perversely born
        Onward with rebellious sco
rn, Thus to speak repiningly!

East when climing sun ascends
West when sliding sun descends
        South his standing tide
Can to no man honour bring
        Only God who all doth guide
        Makes men climb, or stand or slide
Makes the caitife and the King;

Then not me, God you understand
Him whose ever right right hand
        Holds a filled cupp:
Not of wine by winy lees
        Of the which they all shall supp;
        Supp said I, nay suck it up
Whom unjust his justice sees.

So then I will spend my dayes
In recording still his prayse
        Still my song shall flow
From the land of Jacobs God.
        I will crop ill doers low
        I will make well-doers grow
Spreading branches from abroad.

[AJ Note:  Confitebimur Tibi, We will confess to Thee.]


Pembroke, Mary S. H.  The Triumph of Death and Other
Unpublished and Uncollected Poems.  G. F. Waller, Ed.
Salzburg: Universität Salzburg, 1977.  136-137.

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