John Milton - PSAL. LXXXVI [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

         1 THY gracious ear, O Lord, encline,
         O hear me I thee pray,
         For I am poor, and almost pine
         With need, and sad decay.

         2 Preserve my soul, for *I have trod Heb. I am good, loving,
         Thy waies, and love the just, a doer of good and
         Save thou thy servant O my God holy things
         Who still in thee doth trust.

         3 Pity me Lord for daily thee
         I call; 4 O make rejoyce
         Thy Servants Soul; for Lord to thee
         I lift my soul and voice,

         5 For thou art good, thou Lord art prone
         To pardon, thou to all
         Art full of mercy, thou alone
         To them that on thee call.

         6 Unto my supplication Lord
         Give ear, and to the crie
         Of my incessant praiers afford
         Thy hearing graciously.

         7 I in the day of my distress
         Will call on thee for aid;
         For thou wilt grant me free access
         And answer, what I pray'd.

         8 Like thee among the gods is none
         O Lord, nor any works
         Of all that other Gods have done
         Like to thy glorious works.

         9 The Nations all whom thou hast made
         Shall come, and all shall frame
         To bow them low before thee Lord,
         And glorifie thy name.

         10 For great thou art, and wonders great
         By thy strong hand are done,
         Thou in thy everlasting Seat
         Remainest God alone.

         11 Teach me O Lord thy way most right,
         I in thy truth will hide,
         To fear thy name my heart unite
         So shall it never slide.

         12 Thee will I praise O Lord my God
         Thee honour, and adore
         With my whole heart, and blaze abroad
         Thy name for ever more.

         13 For great thy mercy is toward me,
         And thou hast free'd my Soul
         Eev'n from the lowest Hell set free
         From deepest darkness foul.

         14 O God the proud against me rise
         And violent men are met
         To seek my life, and in their eyes
         No fear of thee have set.

         15 But thou Lord art the God most mild
         Readiest thy grace to shew,
         Slow to be angry, and art stil'd
         Most mercifull, most true.

         16 O turn to me thy face at length,
         And me have mercy on,
         Unto thy servant give thy strength,
         And save thy hand-maids Son.

        17 Some sign of good to me afford,
         And let my foes then see
         And be asham'd, because thou Lord
         Do'st help and comfort me.