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2 Tir'd with the Burdens of the Day,

To Thee I rais’d an Ev’ning Cry ;
Thou heard'st when I began to pray,

And thine Almighty Help was nigh. 3 Supported by thine heav'nly Aid,

I laid me down and slept secure;
Not Death could make my Heart afraid,

Though I should wake and rise no more. 4 My God fustain'd me all the Night :

Salvation doth to God belong :
He rais'd my Head to see the Light,
And make his Praise my Morning Song.

PSA L M IV. Metre i. IL ORD, Thou wilt hear me when I pray,

I , 1 am for ever thine ; I fear before Thee all the Day,

Nor would I dare to fin.
2 And while I rest my weary Head,

From Cares and Business free,
'Tis sweet conversing on my Bed

With my own Heart and 'Thee, 3 I pay this Ev’ning-Sacrifice;

And when my Work is done,
Great God, my Faith and Hope relies

Upon thy Grace alone. 4 Thus with my Thoughts compos'd to Peace,

I'll give mine Eyes to fleep;
Thy Hand in Safety keeps my Days,

And will my Slumbers keep.


PSALM IV. Metre ii,
God of Grace and Righteousness,

Hear and attend when I complain ; Thou hast enlarg’d me in Distress,

Bow down a gracious Ear again. 2 Ye Sons of Men, in vain ye try

To turn my Glory into Shame;
How long will Scoffers love to lie,

And dare reproach my Saviour's Name? 3

Know that the LORD divides his Saints From all the Tribes of Men beside; He hears the Cry of Penitents, For the dear fake of CHRIST who dy'd.. 4 When our

obedient Hands have done A thousand Works of Righteousness, We put our Trust in God alone,

And glory in his pard’ning Grace. 5 Let the unthinking Many fay,

Who will bestow some earthly Good?" But, LORD, thy Light and Love we pray,

Our Souls desire this heav'nly Food.
6 Then shall my cheerful Pow'rs rejoice

At Grace and Favours fo divine;
Nor will I change my happy Choice,
For all their Corn and all their Winė.


L V.
ORD, in the Morning thou shalt hear

My Voice ascending high :
To Thee will I direct my Pray'r,

To Thee lift up mine Eye.


2 Up to the Hills where CHRIST is gone

To plead for all his Saints, Presenting at his FATHER's Throne

Our Songs and our Complaints. 3 Thou art a God, before whofe Sight

The Wicked shall not ftand;
Sinners shall ne'er be thy Delights

Nor dwell at thy right Hand.
But to thy House will I refort,

To taste thy Mercies there ;
I will frequent thine holy Court,

And worship in thy Fear.
5 O may thy Spirit guide my Feet

In Ways of Righteousness!
Make ev'ry Path of Duty straight

And plain before my Face. 6 The Men that love and fear thy Name

Shall see their Hopes fulfil'd;
The mighty God will compafs them

With Favour as a Shield.


Metre i.

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Thy feeble Worm, my God;
My Spirit dreads thine angry Look,

And trembles at thy Rod.

2 Have Mercy, LORD, for I am weak,

Regard my heavy Groans;
Olet thy Voice of Comfort speak,

And heal my broken Bones.

3 My Soul quite faints, but, LORD, how long

Shall I no Answer have?
O turn, and free my Soul from Wrong,

My Soul in Mercy save.
4 Return, and shew thy Pow'r to save

And spare my fainting Breath; For who can praife Thee in the Grave?

Or fing thy Name in Death? 5 All Night my restless Bed with Tears,

With Tears my Couch o'erflows; My Sight quite dim with Age appears,

Through my prevailing Foes. 6 But hence ye Enemies depart,

Nor tempt me to despair; My SAVIOUR comes to cheer my Heart,

The Lord hath heard my Pray’r.


PSA L M VI. Metre ii.


Spare me, Lordnor o'er


Head's The Fulness of thy Vengeance thed, With pitying Eye my Weakness view, Heal my vex'd Soul, 'my Strength renew, Permit my Pains their Bounds to know,

And fix a Period to my Woe.
2 Return, great God, return and save

Thy Servant from the greedy Grave:
Shall Death's cold, silent Tongue, o say,
The Records of thy Pow'r display?
Or pale Corruption's startled Ear
Thy Praise within its Prison hear?

3 By Languor, Grief, and Care oppress’d,

While Groans perpetual heave my Breast,
And Tears in large Profufion fhed,
Inceifant lave my sleepless Bed;
My Life, though yet in mid Career,
Beholds the Winter of its Year.

4. Hence ye Profane :-My Saviour hears; While yet I speak, he wipes my

Tears ; Accepts my Pray's, and Kids each Foe, With Shame, his vain Attempts forego. They, struck with Horror from on high, In vild Disorder backward fly.

O Save me, LORD, and to my Foes

Do Thou (in Thee I trust) oppose Thy Pow'r ;--and let the Arm divine,

Stretch'd in my Caufe, befpeak me thine. 2 My God, if Truth their Censure guide,

If Guilt be in my Deeds desery'd,
Low in the Dust my Life be laid,

And Earth's dark Womb iny Glory shade. 3 Rise, mightiest Lord, triumphant rife,

O’er each whols Hand thy Pow'r defies ; Ascend thy Throne, great God, again,

And vindicate thy Ways to Mien.
4 O Thou whose strictly searching Eye

The Heart and inmost Reins can try;
Sin's baneful Growth do Thou control,
And guard from Ill the upriglit Soul.

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