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PSA L M XLII. Metre iii.
S the poor Hart, tir'd in the Chace,
So pants my Soul for Streams of Grace,
Thy cheering Visits, O my God, 2 For God my thirsty Spirit longs,
The sacred Spring of living Joy;
Before my God?-Divine Employ! 3 Thro' the fad Night and mournful Day,
My Aowing Tears have been my Food;
“ And where is now thy Saviour God?" 4. Yet will the LORD command his Care, [Eyes ;
His Love (sweet Morn!) shall cheer mine
God of my Life, to Thee ihali rife.
Why do my reflets Pafions mourn?
His blissful Smile will yet return.
His Smile my drooping Hope shall raise ;
PSA L M XLIII.
2 Let me with Light and Truth be blest,
Be Thou my Guide, and lead the Way,
And in thy facred Temple pray.
To God, who is my only Joy;
Shall all my grateful Hours employ:
So much oppress'd with anxious Care?
PSA L M XLIV.
Thy Works of Pow'r and Grace,
The Wonders of their Days. : 57
And make thy Gospel known;
Thy Light and Glory shonc. is not
And, in a cheerful Throng,
And Grace' was all their Song.
A Proverb to our Foes;
And triumphs in our Woes.
5 Awake, arise, Almighty LORD!
Why sleeps thy wonted Grace?
Or banish'd from thy Face ?
Our Saviour and our God;
The Merits of thy Blood.
PSALM XLV. Metre i,
M'Some godly Song to fing;
Y Heart doth take in Hand
Pertaineth to the KING.
His Honour to indite,
That ureth fast to write. 3
fairest of all Men! Thy Lips with Grace are pure ; For God hath blefled Thee with Gifts
For ever to endure. 4
About Thee gird thy Sword,
O PRINCE of Might elect!
Thou art most richly deckt. 5 Go forth with godly Speed,
With Meckness, Truth, and Right ; And thy right Hand shall Thee instruct,
In Works of dreadful Might,
6 Thy Arrows sharp and keen
Their Hearts fo fore shall sting,
Yea, all thy Foes, O KING. 7 Thy royal Seat, O LORD,
For ever shall remain ;
Doth Righteousness maintain. 8 Wherefore thy holy Name
All Ages shall record ;
For evermore, O LORD.
PSA L M XLV. Metre ii.
ELSOLE is by a bleffed Thoughts
My Soul the Wing
The Praise of CHRIST my King. 2 My Lips are eager, and delight
Glad Tidings to impart,
With equal Ease and Art.
Of Men from Adam sprung; And God has giv'n eternal Grace
To thy persuasive Tongue. 4 Ride on, Thou Prince of wondrous Might
Gird on thy dreadful Sword !
5 Thy Throne, O God, for ever ftands;
Thy. Word of Grace shall prove A peaceful Sceptre in thy Hands,
To rule, thy Saints by Love.
But Mercy is thy Choice ;
With most peculiar Joys.
PS A L M XLV. - Metre iii.
Heart inspir’d to fing
SAVIOUR-KING, Jesus the LORD; how heav'nly fair
His Form!-How bright his Beauties are ! 2 O'er all the Sons of human Race
He shines with a superior Grace ;
And Blessings all his State compose.
Gird on the Terror of thy Sword!
With Truth and Meekness at thy Side ! 4 Thine Anger, like a pointed Dart,
Shall pierce the Foes of stubborn Heart:
Shall melt the Rebels at thy Feet.
Grace is the Sceptre in thy Hands;