Sir Thomas Wyatt, Certayne psalmes chosesn out of the psalter of David/ commonly called thee .vii. penytentiall psalmes (1549)

LIK as the pilgryme that in a long way
Fayntyng for hete, provokyd by some wind
In some fresh shaade lith downe at mydes off day
So doth off David the weryd voyce and mynd
Tak breth off syghes when he had song this lay,
Vnder such shaad as sorow hath assynd;
And as the tone still myndes his viage end,
So doth the tother to mercy still pretend.

On sonour cordes his fingers he extendes,
Withowt heryng or jugement off the sownd;
Down from his iyes a streme off terys discendes
Withowt feling that trykill on the grownd
As he that bledes in baigne ryght so intendes
Th'altryd sensis to that that they ar bownd;
But syght and wepe he can non othr thing,
And lok vp still vnto the hevins kyng.

But who had bene withowt the Cavis mowth
And herd the terys and syghes that he did strayne,
He wold have sworne there had owt off the sowth
A lewk warme wynd browght forth a smoky rayne;
But that so close the Cave was and vnkowth
That none but god was record off his payne:
Elles had the wynd blowne in all Israells erys
The woffull plaint and off theire kyng the terys.

Off wych some part, when he vpp suppyd hade,
Lik as he whom his owne thowght affrays,
He torns his look. Hym semith that the shade
Off his offence agayne his force assays
By violence dispaire on hym to lade:
Stertyng like hym whom sodeyne fere dismays,
His voyce he strains, and from his hert owt brynges
This song that I not wyther he crys or singes.

Psalm 51. Miserere mei, Domine

REW on me, lord, for thy goodnes and grace,
That off thy nature art so bountefull,
Ffor that goodnes that in the world doth brace
Repugnant natures in quiete wonderfull;
And for thi mercys nomber withowt end
In hevin and yerth perceyvid so plentefull
That ouer all they do them sellffes extend:
Ffor those marcys much more then man can synn
Do way my synns that so thy grace offend.
Agayne washe me, but washe me well within,
And from my synn that thus makth me affrayd
Make thou me clene, as ay thy wont hath byn.
Ffor vnto the no nombre can be layd
For to prescrybe remissions off offence
In hertes retornd, as thow thy sellff hast sayd.
And I beknow my ffawt, my neclegence,
And in my syght my synn is fixid fast,
Theroff to have more perfett penitence.
To the alone, to the have I trespast,
Ffor none can mesure my fawte but thou alone;
For in thy syght I have not bene agast
For to offend, juging thi syght as none,
So that my fawt were hid from syght of man,
Thy maiestye so from my mynd was gone:
This know I and repent. Pardon thow than,
Wherby thow shalt kepe still thi word stable,
Thy justice pure and clene; by cawse that whan
I pardond ame, then forthwith justly able,
Just I ame jugd by justice off thy grace.
Ffor I my sellff, lo thing most vnstable,
Fformd in offence, conceyvid in like case,
Ame nowght but synn from my natyvite.
Be not this sayd for my excuse, alase,
But off thy help to shew necessite:
Ffor lo thou loves the trowgh off inward hert,
Wich yet doth lyve in my fydelite;
Tho I have fallen by fraylte ouerthwart,
Ffor willfull malice led me not the way,
So much as hath the fleshe drawne me apart.
Wherfore, O lord, as thow hast done alway,
Tech me the hydden wisdome off thy lore,
Sins that my fayth doth not yet dekay;
And as the juyz do hele the liepre sore
With hysope clense, clense me, and I ame clene.
Thow shalt me washe, and more then snow therfore
I shall be whight. How fowle my fawt hath bene!
Thow off my helth shalt gladsome tydynges bryng,
When from above remission shall be sene
Descend on yerth: then shall for joye vpspryng
The bonis that were afore consumd to dust.
Looke not, O lord, apon myn offendyng,
But do away my dedes that ar vnjust.
Make a clene hert in the myddes off my brest
With spryte vpryght, voydyd from fylthye lust.
Ffrom thyn iys cure cast me not in vnrest,
Nor take from me thy spryte of holynesse.
Rendre to me joye off thy help and rest;
My will conferme with spryte off stedfastnesse:
And by this shall thes goodly thinges ensue.
Sinners I shall in to thy ways adresse:
They shall retorne to the and thy grace sue.
My tong shall prayse thy justification
My mowgh shall spred thy gloryus praysis true.
But off thi sellff, O god, this operation
It must proced by purging me from blood,
Among the just that I may have relation;
And off thy lawdes for to let owt the flood,
Thow must, O lord, my Iypps furst vnlose:
Ffor if thou hadst estemid plesant good
The owtward dedes that owtward men disclose,
I wold have offerd vnto the sacryfice.
But thou delyghtes not in no such glose
Off owtward dede, as men dreme and devyse.
The sacryfice that the lord Iykyth most
Is spryte contrite. Low hert in humble wyse
Thow dost accept, O god, for plesant host.
Make Syon, Lord, accordyng to thy will,
Inward Syon, the Syon of the ghost:
Off hertes Hierusalem strengh the walles still.
Then shalt thou take for good thes vttward dedes,
As sacryfice thy plesure to fullfyll.
Off the alone thus all our good procedes.