O let me (rais'd by THEE) no more
The Abfence of thine Aid deplore;
GOD of my Life, recede not far,
But hafte, and make that Life thy Care.
EACH me the Measure of my Days,
Thou MAKER of my Frame !
I would furvey Life's narrow Space,
And learn how frail I am.
2 A Span is all that we can boaft,
An Inch or two of Time;
Man is but Vanity and Duft,
In all his Flow'r and Prime.
See the vain Race of Mortals move,
3
Like Shadows o'er the Plain;
They rage and ftrive, defire and love,
But all their Noife is vain.
4 Some walk in Honour's gaudy Show,
Some dig for golden Ore;
They toil for Heirs, they know not who,
And ftrait are feen no more,
What fhould I wifh or wait for then,
From Creatures, Earth and Duft?
They make our Expectations vain,
And difappoint our Truft.
Now I forbid my carnal Hope,
My fond Defires recall;
I give my mortal Int'rest up,
And make my Gon my All.
PSALM XXXIX. Metre ii.
1 ALMIGHTY MAKER of my Frame,
Teach me the Measure of my Days,
Teach me to know how frail I am,
And spend the Remnant to thy Praise.
2 My Days are shorter than a Span,
A little Point my Life appears;
How frail at best is dying Man!
How vain are all his Hopes and Fears!
Vain his Ambition, Noife and Show!
Vain are the Cares which rack his Mind; He heaps up Treasures mix'd with Woe; He dies, and leaves them all behind.
O be a nobler Portion mine!
My God, I bow before thy Throne,
Earth's fleeting Treasure I refign,
And fix my Hope on Thee alone..
5 Save me by thy Almighty Arm
From all my Sins, and cleanfe my Faults;
Then Guilt nor Folly fhall alarm
My Soul-nor vex my peaceful Thoughts.
6 Beneath the chaft'ning of thy Hand,
Let not my Heart or Tongue repine;
But filent and fubmiffive bend,
And bear the Stroke because 'tis thine.
7 SAVIOUR all-gracious, hear my cry,
Pity my Tears, and heal my Woe!
As were my Fathers, so am I,
A wretched Stranger here below.
8 O fpare me, and my Strength restore,
Ere my few hafty Minutes flee;
And when my Days on Earth are o'er,
Let me for ever dwell with Thee.
PSALM XXXIX. Metre iii.
Let me, heav'nly LORD, extend
My View to Life's approaching End,
And, leffon'd by thy Wisdom, learn
How foon Fabric fhall return
To Earth, and in the filent Tomb,
Its Seat of lafting Reft affume.
2 What are my Days! (a Span their Line) And what my Age compar'd with thine!Our Life advancing to its Clofe,
While scarce its earliest Dawn it knows,
Swift like a fleeting Shade we run,
And Vanity and Man are one.
O how thy Chaftifements impair
The human Form, however fair!
As when the fretting Moths confume
The Labour of the curious Loom,
The Texture fails, the Dyes decay,
And all its Luftre fades away.
4 GOD of my Fathers! Here, as they,
I walk the Pilgrim of a Day,
A tranfient Gueft, thy Works admire,
And inftant to my Home retire;
Where then fhall I my Refuge fee?
On whom repofe my Hope but Thee?
5 Before thy Throne my Knees I bend; To Thee my ceaseless Pray'rs afcend :"O fpare me, LORD, awhile O fpare, "My Strength renew, my Heart prepare, "Ere Life's fhort Circuit wander'd o'er, "I perish, and am seen no more."
Meekly waited for the LORD,
He bow'd to hear my Cry:
He faw me refting on his Word,
And brought Salvation nigh.
2 He rais'd me from a horrid Pit,
Where mourning long I lay;
And from my Bonds releas'd my Feet,
Deep Bonds of miry Clay.
3 Firm on a Rock He made me ftand,
And taught my cheerful Tongue
To praise the Wonders of His Hand,
In a new thankful Song.
4 I'll spread His Works of Grace abroad;
The Saints with Joy fhall hear,
And Sinners learn to make my GOD
Their only Hope and Fear.
5 How many are thy Thoughts of Love!
Thy Mercies, LORD, how great!
Nor Words nor Hours fufficient prove
Their Numbers to repeat.
6 When I'm afflicted, poor and low,
And Light and Peace depart;
My God beholds my heavy Woe,
And bears me on his Heart.
7 THUS faith the LORD, "Your Work is vain,
"Give your Burnt-Off'rings o'er ;
"In dying Goats and Bullocks flain
"My Soul delights no more."
8 Then spake the SAVIOUR, "Lo! I'm here,
"My GoD, to do thy Will;
"Whate'er thy facred Books declare
<< Thy Servant fhall fulfil.
9" Thy Law is ever in my Sight,
"I keep it near my Heart ;
"Mine Eyes are open'd with Delight
"To what thy Lips impart."
10 Thus He reveal'd his FATHER'S Grace,
And thus his Truth He fhew'd,
And preach'd the Way of Righteousness
Where great Affemblies ftood.
II His FATHER'S Honour touch'd his Heart,
He pity'd Sinners' Cries,
And, to fulfil a SAVIOUR'S Part,
Was made a Sacrifice.
12 No Blood of Beafts on Altars fhed
Could wash the Confcience clean;
But the rich Sacrifice He paid,
Atones for all our Sin.
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