4 Remote from Fear, within thy Shrine,
Thou, LORD, my Dwelling fhalt affign;
Thy Wings fhall wrap me in their Shade;
Thou, Thou haft heard me when I pray'd.
5 Thus fhall thy Love awake my Song,
Thy Name the willing Note prolong,
While warm'd with Zeal, my Vows I pay,
And blefs Thee to my latest Day.
PSALM LXII. Metre i.
Y Spirit looks to GOD alone;
My Rock and Refuge is his Throne;
In all my Fears, in all my Straits,
My Soul for his Salvation waits.
2 Truft him, ye Saints, in all your Ways,
Pour out your Hearts before his Face:
When Helpers fail, and Foes invade,
GOD is our all-fufficient Aid.
3 Falfe are the Men of high Degree,
The bafer Sørt are Vanity;
Laid in the Balance, both appear
Light as a Bubble in the Air.
4 Make not increafing Gold your Trust, i
Nor fet your Hearts on glitt'ring Duft;
Why will you grafp the fleeting Smoke,
And not believe what God hath spoke?
5 Once hath his awful Voice declar'd,
Once and again my Ears have heard,
"All Pow'r is his eternal Due;
"He must be fear'd and trusted too."
6 For fov'reign Pow'r reigns not alone,
Grace is a Partner of the Throne;
Thy Grace and Juftice, mighty LORD,
Shall well divide our laft Reward.
"Y Soul in GoD its reft has found; When various Griefs beset me round, His Love fhall fure Deliv'rance yield ;:;. By Him thro' Life I walk upheld, And fafe from Lapfe my Course maintain, Or, falling, truft to rife again.
2 How long, Artificers of Ill,
Shall Schemes of Death employ your Skill?
Vain are the Wiles for him prepar'd [guard,
Whom Heav'n's high LORD Vouchfafes to
And (crown'd with Honours from above)
Proclaims the Object of his Love.
3 Thee, LORD, my Glory, Thee alone,
My Rock, my Health, my Strength, Town:-
Ye Tribes in GoD your Help behold,
To Him with me your Hearts unfold;
Each Want confefs, each Grief reveal ;
For who, O who like Him can heal?
4 O Vanity, thy Name is MAN,
Where'er the human Mind we fcan;
Truft not in Wrong and Fraud; no more
On Hope's light Wing prefumptuous foar;
Nor let the glitt'ring Heap impart
One With to thy deluded Heart
5 Once from his Throne th' ALMIGHTY fpake, And forth again the Accents brake :— "I claim the univerfal Sway,
"And those whofe Hearts my Will obey << (Since Pow'r in Me with Mercy's join'd) "The promis'd Crown of Life fhall find." PSALM
Y GOD, permit my Tongue
This Joy, to call Thee mine;
And let my early Cries prevail
To taste thy Love divine.
2 My thirsty, fainting Soul
Thy Mercy doth implore;
Not Travellers, in Defert-Lands,
Can pant for Water more.
Within thy Churches, LORD,
I long to find a Place;
Thy Pow'r and Glory to behold,
And feel thy quick'ning Grace.
For Life, without thy Love,
No Relish can afford;
No Joy can be compar'd with this,
To ferve and please the LORD.
To Thee I'll lift my Hands,
And praife Thee while I live;
Not the rich Dainties of a Feaft
Such Food or Pleasure give.
In wakeful Hours of Night,
I call my God to mind;
I think how wife thy Counfels are,
And all thy Dealings kind.
Since Thou haft been my Help,
To Thee my Spirit flies,
And on thy watchful Providence
My cheerful Hope relies.
8 The Shadow of thy Wings
My Soul in Safety keeps:
I follow where my FATHER leads,
And He fupports my Steps.
ARLY, my God, without Delay,
I hafte to feek thy Face:
My thirsty Spirit faints away,
Without thy cheering Grace.
2 So Pilgrims on the fcorching Sand,
Beneath a burning Sky,
Long for a cooling Stream at hand,
And they must drink or die.
3 I've feen thy Glory, and thy Pow'r,
Through all thy Temples fhine;
My GoD, repeat that Heav'nly Hour,
That Vifion fo divine!
4 Not all the Bleffings of a Feaft
Can please my Soul fo well,
As when thy richer Grace I taste,
And in thy Prefence dwell.
5 Not Life itself, with all her Joys,
Can my beft Paffions move,
Or raise to high my cheerful Voice,
fo
As thy forgiving Love.
6 Thus, till my last expiring Day,
I'll blefs my GOD and KING;
Thus will I lift my Hands to pray,
And tune my Lips to fing.
'Twas in the Watches of the Night,
I thought upon thy Pow'r :
I kept thy Faithfulness in Sight
Amidft the darkest Hour.
8 My Flesh lay refting on my Bed,
My Soul arofe on high;
"My God, my Life, my Hope," I said,
"Bring thy Salvation nigh.”
9 My Spirit labours up thine Hill,
And climbs the heav'nly Road;
But thy Right-Hand upholds me still,
While I purfue my GOD.
10 Thy Mercy ftretches o'er my Head
The Shadow of thy Wings;
My Heart rejoices in thine Aid,
My Tongue awakes and fings.
PSALM LXIII. Metre iii.
GREAT artony Hope, my Joy, my Reft:
REAT GOD, indulge my humble Claim,
The Glories that compofe thy Name,
Stand all engag'd to make me bleft. -
2 Thou Great and Good, thou Juft and Wife,
Thou art my FATHER and my GOD;
And I am Thine by facred Fies
Thy Son, thy Servant, bought with Blood.
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