He bids the clouds, with plenteous rain,
Refresh the thirsty earth again.

3 'Tis to his care we owe our breath,
And all our near efcapes from death:
Safety and health to God belong,

1

He heals the weak, and guards the ftrong.
4 He makes the faint ar finner prove
The common bleffings of his love; ·
But the wide difference that remains
Is endless joy or endless pains.

5 The Lord that bruis'd the ferpent's head,
On all the ferpent's feed fhall tread,
The ftubborn finner's hope confound,
And fmite him with a lafting wound.
6 But his right hand his faints hall raise
From the deep earth, or deeper feas:
And bring them to his courts above,
There shall they tafte his fpecial love.

PSALM LXIX. 1,-14. Firft Part. Com. Met,
The Sufferings of Chrift for our Salvation.
AVE me, O God, the fwelling floods
"Break in upon my foul:

I "

SA

"I fink; and forrows o'er my head
"Like mighty waters roll.

2 "I cry till all my voice be gone,
"In tears I waste the day;
"My God, behold my longing eyes,
"And fhorten thy delay.

3"They hate my foul without a caufe,,
"And dill their number grows,
"More than the hairs around my head,
And mighty are my foes.
G

4

""Twas then I paid that dreadful debt
"That men could never pay,

"And gave those honours to thy law,

"Which finners took away."

5 Thus, in the great Meffiah's name,
The royal prophet mourns;
Thus he awakes our hearts to grief,
And gives us joy by turns.

6" Now fhall the faints rejoice and find
"Salvation in my name,

"For I have borne their heavy load
"Of forrow, pain and shame.

7 "Grief like a garment cloath'd me round,
"And fackcloth was my drefs,
"While I procur'd for naked fouls
"A robe of righteouinefs.

8 "Amongst my brethren and the Jews, "I like a ftranger stood,

And bore their vile reproach, to bring "The Gentiles near to God.

9 "I came in finful mortals ftead, "To do my Father's will,

"Yet when I cleans'd my Father's houfe, "They fcandaliz'd my zeal.

10" My fafting and my holy groans

1Q

"Were made the drunkard's fong;
"But God from his celeftial throne
"Heard my complaining tongue.

11 "He fav'd me from the dreadful deep, Nor let my foul be drown'd;

"He rais'd and fix'd my finking feet.
"On well-establish'd ground.

12" 'Twas in a most accepted hour "My pray'r arofe on high,

"And for my fake my God fhall hear "The dying finner's cry.”

PSALM LXIX. 14,--21, 26, 29, 32. Second Part. Common Metre.

The Paffion and Exaltation of Chrift.
O W let our lips with holy fear
And mournful pleasure fing

N

The fuff'rings of our great High Priest,
The forrows of our King,

2 He finks in floods of deep diftrefs;
How high the waters rife!
While to his heav'nly Father's ear
He fends perpetual cries.

3 "Hear me, O Lord, and fave thy Son,
"Nor hide thy fhining face;

"Why should thy fav'rite look like one
"Forfaken of thy grace?

4" With rage they perfecute the man
"That groans beneath thy wound,
"While for a facrifice I pour

"My life upon the ground.

5 "They tread my honour to the duft,
"And laugh when I complain;
"Their sharp infulting flanders add
"Fresh anguish to my pain.

6" All my reproach is known to thee,
The fcandal and the shame;

Reproach has broke my bleeding heart,
"And lies defil'd my name.

7 "I look'd for pity, but in vain; "My kindred are my grief;

"I afk my friends for comfort round,
"But meet with no relief.

8 "With vinegar they mock my thirst,
"They give me gall for food;
"And fporting with my dying groans,
"They triumph in my blood.

9

"Shine into my distressed foul,

"Let thy compaffions fave;

"And tho' my flesh fink down to death, "Redeem it from the grave.

"I fhall arife to praise thy name, "Shall reign in worlds unknown, "And thy falvation, O my God,

"Shall feat me on thy throne."

PSALM LXIX. Third Part. Common Metre.

Chrift's obedience and death; or, God glorified and finners faved.

I

FA

Ather, I fing thy wondrous grace,
I blefs my Saviour's name,

He bought falvation for the poor,
And bore the finner's fhame.

2 His deep distress has rais'd us high, His duty and his zeal

3

Fulfill'd the law which mortals broke,
And finifh'd all thy will.

His dying groans, his living fongs

Shall better please my God,

Than harp or trumpet's folemn found,
Than goats or bullocks blood.

4 This fhall his humble followers fee, And fet their hearts at reft;

They by his death draw near to thee,
And live for ever blest.

5 Let heav'n, and all that dwell on high
To God their voices raife, .

While lands and leas affift the sky,
And join t' advance the praise.

6 Zion is thine, most holy God;

Thy Son fhall blefs her gates:
And glory purchas'd by his blood
For thy own Ifra'l waits.

PSALM LXIX. First Part. Long Metre.

Chrift's paffion and finner's Salvation.

EEP in our hearts let us record
The deeper forrows of our Lord;

Behold the rifing billows roll,
To overwhelm his holy foul.

2 In long complaints he fpends his breath,
While hofts of hell, and pow'rs of death,
And all the fons of malice join

To execute their curft defign.

3 Yet, gracious God, thy pow'r and love
Has made the curfe a bleffing prove;,
Thofe dreadful fuff'rings of thy Son
Aton'd for fins which we had done.
4 The pangs of our expiring Lord
The honours of thy law reftor'd:
His forrows made thy juftice known,
And paid for follies not his own.
O for his fake our guilt forgive,
And let the mourning finner live;