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While haughty fools with scoroful eyes,

In robes of honour shine.
3 [Pamper'd with wanton case,

Their flesh looks full and fair,
Their wealth rolls in like flowing feas,
And grows

without their care.
4 Free from the plagues and paias

That pious fouls endure,
Thro' all their life oppreffion reigns,

And racks the humble poor.
5 Their impious tongues blaspheme

The everlasting God:
Their malice blasts the good man's name,

And spreads their lies abroad, 6 But I with Aowing tears

Indulg'd my doubts to rise; * Is there a God that sees or hears

“The things below the skies?"] 7 The tumults of my thought

Held me in hard suspence,
Till to thy hoūlė my feet were brought,

To learn thy justice thence.
8 Thy word with light and pow'r

Did my mistakes amend;
I view'd the finners life before,

But here I learo'd their end. 9 On what a flipp'ry steep

The thoughtlels wretches go; Add that dreadful fiery deep,

That waits their fall below! 10 Lord, at thy feet I bow,

My thoughts no more repine;


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W"His wrath for ever fimoke


God for ever cast us off?

His wrath for ever smoke
Against the people of his love,

His little chofen Alock ?
2 Think of the tribes so dearly bought

With their Redeemer's blood;
Nor let thy Sion be forgot,

Where once thy glory stood.
3 Lift up thy feet, and march in haste,

Aloud our ruin calls;
See what a wide and fearful waste

Is made within thy walls,
4 Where once thy churches pray'd and fang,

Thy foes profanely roar:
Over thy gates their enligas hang,

Sad tokens of their pow'r.
S How are the seats of worship broke!

They tear thy buildings down,
And he that deals the heaviest stroke,

Procures the chief renown,
6 With flames they threaten to destroy

Thy children in their neft; « Come, let us burn at once they cry,

“ The temple and the priest.” 7 And fill to heighten our distress,

Thy presence is withdrawn;

Thy wonted signs of pow'r and grace,

Thy pow'r and grace are gone.
8 No prophet speaks to calm our woes,

But all the feers mouro;
There's not a foul amongst us knows

The time of thy return.

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9 How long, eternal God, how long,

Shall men of pride blaspheme!
Shall faiņts be made their endless song,

And bear immortal shame?
10 Caost thou for ever fit and hear

Thine holy name profan'd? And still thy jealousy forbear,

And still with-hold thine hand?
11. What strange deliv'rance haft thou shown

In ages long before?
And now no other God we owa,

No other God adore.
12 Thou didst divide the raging sea

By thy resistless might,
To make thy tribes a wondrous way,

And then secure their flight.
13 Is not the world of nature thine,

The darkness and the day?
Didlt not thou bid the morning shine,

And mark the fun his way?
14 Hath not thy pow'r form'd ev'ry coast,

And let the earth its bounds,
With fummer's heat, and winter's frost,

In thcir perpetual rounds?


15 And fhall the fons of earth and dust

That facred pow'r blafpheme!
Will not thy hand that form’d them first,

Avenge thine injur'd name?
16 Think on the cov’nant thou hast made,

And all thy words of love; Nor let the birds of prey invade,

And vex thy mourning dove. 17 Our foes would triumph in our blood,

And make our hope their jeft; Plead thy own cause, almighty God,

And give thy children reft.

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Puwer and government from God alone.
Applied to the glorious Revolution by king Wil-

liam, or the happy accession of king George to
the throne.

O thee, most holy, and most High,

To thee we bring our thankful praises Thy works declare thy name is nigh,

Tby works of wonder and of grace. 2 Britain was doom'd to be a save,

Her frame diffolv'd; her fears were great;
When God a new supporter gave,

To bear the pillars of the state.
3 He from thy kand receiv'd his crown,

And sware to rule by wholesome laws;
His foot shall tread th' oppreffor down,

His arm defend the righteous cause. 4 Let haughty finners sink their pride;

Nor lift so high their fcornful head;

But lay their foolish thoughts aside,

And owa the king that God hath made. 5 Such honours never come by chance,

Nor do the winds promotion blow;
'Tis God the Judge doth one advance,

'Tis God that lays another low. 6 No vain pretence to royal birth,

Shall fix a tyrant on the throne;
God, the great Sov'reign of the earth,

Will rite, and make his justice knowo. 7 His hand holds out the dreadful cup,

Of vengeance mix'd with various plagues,
To make the wicked drink them up,

Wring out, and taste the bitter dregs. 8 Now hall the Lord exalt the just,

And while he tramples on the proud,
And lays their glory in the dult,
My lips Mall sing his praise aloud.]


Israel faved, and the Asyrians destroyed: or, God's

vengeance against his erenies proceeds from his church.

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IN Judah God of old was known;

His name in Itra'l great,
In Salem stood his holy throne,

Aud Sion was his feat.
2 Among the praises of his faiats,

His dwelling there he chole:
There he receiv'd their just complaints,

Againit their haughty foes.

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