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7 SWEET is the Mem'ry of thy Grace,

My God, my heav'nly KING
Let Age to Age thy Righteousness

In Sounds of Glory sing:
8 God reigns on high, but not confines

His Goodness to the Skies ; [thines,
Through the whole Earth his Bounty

And ev'ry Want supplies.
9 With longing Eyes thy Creatures wait

On Thee for daily Food;
Thy lib'ral Hand provides their

And fills their Mouths with Good.
10 How kind are thy Compassions, LORD!

How slow thine Anger moves !!!
But soon He fends his pard’ning Word

To cheer the Souls He loves.
11 Creatures, with all their endless Race,

Thy Pow'r and Praise proclaim ;
But Saints, that taste thy richer Grace,
Delight to bless thy Name.

12 LET ev'ry Tongue thy Goodness speaks

Thou sov’reign LORD of All:
Thy strength’ning Hands uphold the Weak,

And raise the Poor that fall.
When Sorrow bows the Spirit down,

Or Virtuc lies distrert
Beneath some proud Oppressor's Frown,

Thou giv'st the Mourners Rest.

14 The Lord. fupports our tott'ring Days,

And guides our giddy Youth :
Holy and just are all his Ways,

And all his Words are 'Truth.
15 He knows the Pains his Servants feel,

He hears his Children cry,
And their best Wishes to fulfil

His Grace is ever nigh.
16 His Mercy never shall remove

From Men of Heart sincere ;
He faves the Souls, whofe humble Love

Is join'd with holy Fear.
17 My Lips shall dwell upon his Praise,

And spread his Fame abroad :
Let all the Sons of Adam raise

The Honours of their God.

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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;
And ev'ry setting Sun shall see

New Works of Duty done for Thee. 3 Thy Truth and Justice I'll proclaim ;

Thy Bounty flows, an endlels Strean ;
Thy Mercy swift, thine Anger flow,
But dreadful to the stubborn Foe.

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4 Thy Works with sov'reign Glory shine,

And speak thy Majesty divine;
Let Britain round her Shores proclaim

The Sound and Honour of thy Name.

Let diftant Times and Nations raise
The long Succession of thy Praise;
And unborn Ages make my Song

The Joy and Labour of their Tongue.
6 But who can speak thy wondrous Deeds ?

Thy Greatness all our Thoughts exceeds ;
Vast and unsearchable thy Ways,
Vast and immortal be thy Praise.

PSA L M CXLV. Métre iii.
THEE will í blefs, my God and KING,

Nor cease thy wondrous Acts to sing:
From earliest Morñ fo lateft Eve
Thy Praises on my Tongue fhall live :
While Righteousness and boundless Love

My Heart inflame, my Songs improve.
2 One Chorus of perpetual Praise

To Thee thy various Works shall raise;
Thy Saints to Thee in Hymns impart
The Transports of a grateful Heart;
The Glories of thy Kingdom tell,

And on thy Wonders sweetly dwell.
3 Ye Souls among his Saints enrollid;

In God your fure Defence behold,
Whose Promise Truth eternal guides ;
Whose Mercy o'er each A& presides
Who gives the Humble, bow'd with Woe,
His all-supporting Grace to know.

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PRAISE the LORD, and thou, my Soul,

For ever bless his Name;
His wondrous Love, while Lite shall last,

My constant Praise fhall claim.
2 On Kings, the greatest Sons of Men,

Let none for Aid rely ;
They cannot fave in dang?rous Times,

Nor timely Help apply.
3 Depriv'd of Breath, to Dust they turn,

And there neglected lie;
And all their Thoughts and vain Designs

Together with them die.
4 Then happy hè, who Jacob's GOD

For his Protector takes;
Who still, with well-plac'd Hope, the LORD

His constant Refuge makes.
5 The LORD who made both Heav'n and Earth,

And All that they contain,
Will never quit his steadfast Truth,

Nor make his Promise vain. -
6 The Poor opprefs'd, from all their Wrongs

Are eas'd by his Decree :
He gives the Hungry needful Food,

And fets the Pris'ners free,
7 The God, that does in Sion dwell,

Is our eternal King:
From Age to Age his Reign endures,

Let All his Praises fing.

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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:
His Truth for ever stands secure :
He saves th Oppress’d, he feeds the Poor;?
And none shall find his Promise vain. ?

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 :
Let ev'ry Tongue, let ev'ry Age,
In this exalted Work engage;

Praise Him in everlasting Strains.

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