1 My heart brings forth a goodly thing;my words that I inditeConcern the King: my tongue's a penof one that swift doth write.
2 Thou fairer art than sons of men:into thy lips is storeOf grace infus'd; God therefore theehath bless'd for evermore.
3 O thou that art the mighty One,thy sword gird on thy thigh;Ev'n with thy glory excellent,and with thy majesty.
4 For meekness, truth, and righteousness,in state ride prosp'rously;And thy right hand shall thee instructin things that fearful be.
5 Thine arrows sharply pierce the heartof th' en'mies of the King;And under thy subjectionthe people down do bring.