The Translation of the CXXVIth Psalme
WHen God return'd vs graciously Vnto our Natiue Land, We seem'd as in a Dreame to be And in a Maze to stand. The Heathen likewise they could say, The God, that these men serue, Hath done great Things for them this Day, Their Nation to preserue. Tis true, God hath pour'd out his grace On vs abundantly, For which we yeeld him Psalmes, and Praise, And thanks, with Iubilee. O Lord, turne our Captiuity, As Winds that blow at South, Doe poure the Tides with violence Backe to the Riuers Mouth. Who sowes in Teares, shall reape in ioy, The Lord doth so ordaine: So that his Seed be pure and good, His Haruest shall be gaine.
Francis Bacon’s other poems:
