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4 The weeping Orphan's Cheek to dry,
The guiltless Suff'rer's Cause to try;
PSA L M XI.
Why do my Foes insult and cry “ Fly like a tim'rous trembling Dove;
« To distant Woods or Mountains fly? 2 If Government be all destroy'd,
(That firm Foundation of our Peace) and Violence make Justice void,
Where shall the Righteous seek Redress ? 3
The Lord in Heav'n has fix'd his Throne;
His Eyelids search our Spirits through. 4 If He afflicts his Saints fo far,
To prove their Love, and try their Grace, What may the bold Tranfgreffors fear?
His very Soul abhors their Ways. 5 The righteous LORD loves righteous Souls,
Whose Thoughts and Actions are sincere ;
PSA L M XII.
Whose Acts conform to thy Decree;
2 « Enough (th' eternal Sire has cry'd)
“Enough my fuff'ring Saints have figh’d, « To Me disclos'd their ceaseless Fear, “And pour'd their Sorrows in mine Ear: “My Hand shall fee their Wrongs redreft,
“ And sooth to Peace the troubled Breaft.”. 3 Pure are thy Words, Almighty Lord,
As Silver oft by Fire explor'd:
TOW long wilt thou conceal thy Face ?
My God, how long delay? When thall I feel those heav'nly Rays
That chase my Fears away?
Wrestle and toil in vain ?
And ease my raging Pain.
All his malicious Arts,
And throws his fiery Darts.
My Soul in Safety keep';
In Death's eternal Sleep.
5 Since I have always plac'd my Trust
Beneath thy Mercy's Wing,
My Heart with Joy fhall spring.
Where all my Hopes have hung ;
P S À L M XIV.
While, fearless, Sin's worst Paths he treads,
Mark how the dire Example spreads ! 2 Th’ETERNAL MONARCH from on High
Caft on the Sons of Earth his Eye,
From Error's baleful infuence free. 3 Whose Lives an impious Age might shame,
Who fought his Love, and own’d his Name; Who'midft infectious Times have stood
Unstain'd, and obstinately good. 4 He look’d:--but ah! not one could find
To Virtue's Heav'n-taught Rules inclin'd: Each led from Wisdom's Path astray,
Pursues the Tenour of his Way.
Shall bid the wish'd Salvation rife,
6 When Thou (thy Pow'r the Work demands)
Shall back recall our captive Bands, [Fraine,
PSALM XV. 'LORD, who is the
happy Man that may Not Stranger like, to visit them,
But to inhabit there?
And works with righteous Hands;
And follows his Commands.
Nor flanders' with his Tongue ;
Nor do his Neighbour wrong.
Can treat with just Neglect;
Has ever firmly stood ;
He makes his Promise good.
And never gripe the Poor;
Shall stand with God secure,
PSA L M XVI.
For Succour to thy Throne I fee;
My Goodness cannot reach to Thee.
How empty and how poor I am;
Nor add new Glories to thy Name.
Some Profit by the Good I do;
These are the choicest Friends I know. 4
Let others choose the Sons of Mirth,
Who haste to seek fome Idol-God!
Their Off rings of forbidden Blood, 6 My God provides a richer Cup,
And nobler Food to live upon:
Jesus his best beloved Son.
By Day his Counsels guide me right :