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My God, my heav'nly KING
In Sounds of Glory sing:
His Goodness to the Skies ; [thines,
And ev'ry Want supplies.
On Thee for daily Food;
How slow thine Anger moves !!!
To cheer the Souls He loves.
Thy Pow'r and Praise proclaim ;
Thou sov’reign LORD of All:
And raise the Poor that fall.
Or Virtuc lies distrert
Thou giv'st the Mourners Rest.
14 The Lord. fupports our tott'ring Days,
And guides our giddy Youth :
And all his Words are 'Truth.
He hears his Children cry,
His Grace is ever nigh.
From Men of Heart sincere ;
Is join'd with holy Fear.
And spread his Fame abroad :
The Honours of their God.
PSALM CXLV. Metre ii.
I Y God, my King, thy various Praise
Shall fill the Remnant of my Days: Thy Grace employ my humble Tongue
Till Death and Glory raise the Song. 2 The Wings of ev'ry Hour shall bear
Some thankful Tribute to thine Ear;
New Works of Duty done for Thee. 3 Thy Truth and Justice I'll proclaim ;
Thy Bounty flows, an endlels Strean ;
4 Thy Works with sov'reign Glory shine,
And speak thy Majesty divine;
The Sound and Honour of thy Name.
Let diftant Times and Nations raise
The Joy and Labour of their Tongue.
Thy Greatness all our Thoughts exceeds ;
PSA L M CXLV. Métre iii.
Nor cease thy wondrous Acts to sing:
My Heart inflame, my Songs improve.
To Thee thy various Works shall raise;
And on thy Wonders sweetly dwell.
In God your fure Defence behold,
PSALM CXLVI. Metre i.
PRAISE the LORD, and thou, my Soul,
For ever bless his Name;
My constant Praise fhall claim.
Let none for Aid rely ;
Nor timely Help apply.
And there neglected lie;
Together with them die.
For his Protector takes;
His constant Refuge makes.
And All that they contain,
Nor make his Promise vain. -
Are eas'd by his Decree :
And fets the Pris'ners free,
Is our eternal King:
Let All his Praises fing.
PSALM CXLVI. Metre ii.
; And when my Voice is loft in Death, Praise fhall employ my nobler Pow'rs: My Days cf Praise shall ne'er be past, While Life, and Thought, and Being last,
Or Iminortality endures. I 2 Way should I make a Man my Trust? Princes must die and turn to Duft:
Vain is the Help of Flesh and Blood; Their Breath departs, their Pomp and Pow'r, And Thoughts, all vanish in an Hour;
Nor can they make their Promise. good. 3 Happy the Man whose Hopes rely On Israel's God:He made the Sky,
And Earth, and Seas, with all their Írain:
PART II 4 THE LORD hath Eyes to give the Blind; The Lord supports the finking Mind; ::
He sends the lab’ring Conscience Peace ; He helps the Stranger in Distress, 1.1 The Widow and the Fatherless, I
And grants the Pris’ner sweet Release. 5 He loves his Saints: He knows them well, But turns the Wicked down to Hell :
Thy God, o Zion, ever reigns :
Praise Him in everlasting Strains.