THEN GOD reftor'd our captive State,
Joy was our Song, and Grace our
Theme;
The Grace beyond our Hopes fo great,
That Joy appear'd a painted Dream.
2 The Scoffer owns thy Hand, and pays
Unwilling Honours to thy Name;
While we with Pleasure fhout thy Praife,
With cheerful Notes thy Love proclaim.
3 When we review our difmal Fears,
'Twas hard to think they'd vanish so;
With GOD we left our flowing Tears,
He makes our Joys like Rivers flow.
4 The Man, that in his furrow'd Field
His fcatter'd Seed with Sadness leaves,
Will fhout to fee the Harveft yield
A welcome Load of joyful Sheaves.
PSALM CXXVII. Metre i. I F GOD to build the Houfe_deny, build
The Builders work in vain ;
And Towns, without his wakeful Eye,
An ufelefs Watch maintain.
2 Why rife ye early, late take rest,
And eat the Bread of Care?
The Balm of Sleep (his Gift confest)
His Children richly share.
Know too thy Sons, that round Thee ftand,
A Gift by Him prepar'd;
Nor Arrows in the Giant's Hand
Can yield fo fure a Guard.
4 Bleft who his Quiver ftores with these : When hoftile Bands are near
His Gate, the Storm approaching fees,
Yet fees without a fear.
'IF Care loft:
F GOD fucceed not, all the Coft
If GOD the City will not keep,
The watchful Guards as well may fleep.
2 What though you rife before the Sun,
And work and toil when Day is done,
Careful and fparing eat your Bread,
To fhun that Poverty you dread:
3 'Tis all in vain, till GOD hath bleft;
He can make rich, yet give us Rest:
Children and Friends are Bleffings too,
If God our Sov'reign make them fo.
4 Happy the Man to whom He sends
Obedient Children, faithful Friends:
How sweet our daily Comforts prove,
When they are season'd with his Love!
PSALM
HAPPY Man, whofe Soul is fill'd
With Zeal and rev'rent Awe!
His Lips to God their Honours yield, '
His Life adorns the Law.
2 A careful Providence shall stand,
And ever guard thy Head,
Shall on the Labours of thy Hand
Its kindly Bleffings fhed.
3 Thy Wife shall be a fruitful Vine;
Thy Children round thy Board,
Each like a Plant of Honour fshine,
And learn to fear the LORD.
4 The LORD fhall thy beft Hopes fulfil,
For Months and Years to come;
The LORD who dwells on Zion's Hill
Shall fend thee Bleffings home.
5 This is the Man whofe happy Eyes
Shall fee his Houfe increafe;
Shall fee the finking Church arife,
Then leave the World in Peace.
P from my Youth, may Ifrael fay,
Have I been nurs'd in Tears;
My Griefs were conftant as the Day,
And tedious as the Years.
2 Up from my Youth I bore the Rage
Of all the Sons of Strife;
Oft they affail'd my riper Age,
But not destroy'd my Life.
3 Their cruel Plough had torn my Flesh With Furrows long and deep;
Hourly they vex'd my Wounds afresh,
Nor let my Sorrows fleep.
4 The LORD grew angry on his Throne, And with impartial Eye
Meafur'd the Mifchiefs they had done,
Then let his Arrows fly.
5 Thus fhall the Men who hate the Saints
Be blafted from the Sky;
Their Glory fades, their Courage faints,
And all their Projects die.
6 What though they flourish tall and fair,
They have no Root beneath;
Their Growth shall perish in Despair,
And lie defpis'd in Death.
7 So Corn, that on the Houfe-top stands,
No Hope of Harveft gives; it
The Reaper ne'er fhall fill his Hands,
Nor Binder fold the Sheaves.
8 It fprings and withers on the Place;
No Traveller bestows
A Word of Bleffing on the Grafs, T
Nor minds it as he goes.
ROM loweft Depths of Woe
TO GOD I fent my Cry,
LORD, hear my fupplicating Voice,
And graciously reply.i
Should't Thou feverely judge, Sta
Who can the Trial bear? -
But Thou forgiv'ft, left we defpond,
And quite renounce thy Fear. o'
My Soul with Patience waits.
For Thee the living LORD:
My Hopes are on thy Promife built,
Thy never-failing Word.
My longing Eyes look out
For thy enliv'ning Ray;
More duly than the Morning-Watch,
To fpy the dawning Day.
Let Ifrael trust in GoD,
No Bounds his Mercy knows, [whence The plenteous Source and Spring, from Eternal Succours flows.
6 Whofe friendly Streams to us
Supplies in Want convey;
A healing Spring, a Spring to cleanse
And wash our Guilt away.
UT of the Deeps of long Distress,
The Borders of Defpair,
I fent my Cries to feek thy Grace,
My Groans to move thine Ear.
2 Great GOD! fhould thy feverer Eye,
And thine impartial Hand,
Mark and revenge Iniquity,
No mortal Flefh could ftand.
But there are Pardons with
For Crimes of high Degree;
Thy SoN has bought them with his Blood,
To draw us near to Thee.
I wait for thy Salvation, LORD,
With ftrong Defires I wait;
My Soul, invited by thy Word,
Stands watching at thy Gate.
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