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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 faints, Presenting at his Father's throne
Our songs and our complaints. 3 Thou art a God, before whose fight
The wicked shall not stand, Sinners shall ne'er be thy delight,
Nor dwell at thy right-hand. 4 But to thy house will I resort,
To taste thy mercies there;
And worship in thy fear.
In ways of righteousness!
To tempt my feet astray;
To make my soul their prey. 7 Lord, crush the serpent in the dust,
And all his plats destroy;
For ever shout for joy. 8 The men that love and fear thy name
Shall fee their hopes fulfilld;
PSALM VI. Common Metre.
Nor let thy fury grow so hot,
Agaiost a feeble worm. 2 My soul bow'd down with heavy cares,
My flesh with paio opprest: My couch is witness to my tears,
My tears forbid my reft. 3 Sorrow and pain wear out my days;
I waste the night with cries, Counting the minutes as they pass,
Till the low morning rise. 4 Shall I be still tormented more?
My eyes consum'd with grief; How long, my God, how long before
Thine hand afford relief?
He pities all our groaps,
And heals our broken bones. 6 The virtue of his fou'reign word
Restores our fainting breath;
Nor is he known in death.
PSALM VI. Long Metre.
When thou with kindgefs dost chastise;
2 Pity my languishing estate,
And ease the forrows that I feel;
Olet thy gentler touches heal! 3 See how I pass my weary days
In fighs and groans; and when 'tis night,
return ? When shall I make thy grace my song?
Aerh so near the grave,
For all is dust and filence there.
And all despairing thoughts depart;
s I feel
God's Care of his people, and Puniflonent of
My hope in thce, my God
From those that feek my blood. · With insolence and fury they
My soul in pieces tear,
When no deliv'rer's near.
3 If I had e'er provok’d them first,
Or once abus'd my foe,
And lay mine honour low.
I know thy piercing eyes;
God to rise. & Arife, my God, lift up thy hand,
Their pride and pow'r controul; Awake to judgment, and command
Deliv'rance for my soul.
PAUSE. 6 [Let finners and their wicked rage
Be humbled to the dust; Shall not the God of truth
engage To vindicate the just? 7 He knows the heart, he tries the reins,
He will defend th' upright; His sharpeft arrows he ordains
Against the sons of spite.
But there themselves are cast;
On their own heads at last.] 9 That cruel persecuting race
Must feel bis dreadful tword.
And justice of the Lord.
God's Sovereignty and Goodness: and Man's Dos
minion over the Creatures.
LORD, our heav'nly King,
Thymme is all divine; Thy glories round the earth are spread,
And o'er the heav'os they shine.
I raise my wond'ring eyes,
Adorn the darksome skies :
And all their shining forms,
A-kin to dust and worms?
That thou should'st love him fo?
And lord of all below.
While beasts, like slaves obey,
And fish that cleave the sea. 6 How rich thy bounties are !
And wond'rous are thy ways:
And sucklings thou canst draw
And strike the world with awe.