Poem by Francis Bacon

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.

1. The Translation of the First Psalme
2. Life
3. The Translation of the XIIth Psalm
4. The Translation of the XCth Psalm

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