Sanctified afflictions; or, Delight in the word of God.
Ver. 67, 59.
Ather, I blefs thy gentle hand;
How kind was thy chastizing rod,
That forc'd my confcience to a stand,
And brought my wand'ring foul to God!
2 Foolish and vain I went aftray
Ere I had felt thy fcourges, Lord,
I left my Guide, and loft my way;
But now I love and keep thy word."
Ver. 71.
3 'Tis good for me to wear the yoke,
For pride is apt to rife and fwell;
'Tis good to bear my Father's stroke,
That I might learn his ftatutes well.
Ver. 72.
4 The law that iffues from thy mouth
Shall raife my chearful paffions more
Than all the treafures of the South,
Or Weftern hills of golden ore.
5 Thy hands have made my mortal frame,
Thy Spirit form'd my foul within;
Teach me to know thy wondrous name,
And guard me fafe from death and fin.
6 Then all that love and fear the Lord
At my falvation fhall rejoice:
For I have hoped in thy word,
And made thy grace my only choice.
Complaint of quarrelsome neighbours; or, A devout
HOU God of love, thou ever blest,
Pity my fuff'ring fate;
When wilt thou fet my foul at rest
From lips that love deceit ?
2 Hard lot of mine! my days are caft
Among the fons of ftrife,
Whose never ceafing brawlings wafte
My golden hours of life.
3 O might I fly to change my place,
How would I chufe to dwell
In fome wild lonesome wilderness,
And leave these gates of hell!
4 Peace is the bleffing that I feek,
How lovely are its charms!
I am for peace; but when I speak,
They all declare for arms.
New paffions fill their fouls engage,
And keep their malice ftrong,
What shall be done to curb thy rage,
O'thou devouring tongue!
6 Should burning arrows fmite thee thro',
Strict juftice would approve
But I had rather spare my foe,
And melt his heart with love.
PSALM CXXI, Long Metre.
Divine protection.
P to the hills I lift mine eyes,
Th' eternal hills beyond the fkies;
Thence all her help my foul derives;
There my almighty Refuge lives.
2 He lives; the everlasting God,
That built the world, that fpread the flood;
The heav'ns with all their hofts he made;
And the dark regions of the dead.
3 He guides our feet, he guards our way;
His morning fmiles blefs all the day;
He fpreads the ev'ning veil, and keeps
The filent hours while Ifra'l fleeps.
4 Ifra'l a name divinely bleft,
May rife fecure, fecurely reft;
The holy Guardian's wakeful eyes
Admit no slumber nor furprise.
No fun fhall fmite thy head by day,
Nor the pale moon with fickly ray
Shall blast thy couch; no baleful star
Dart his malignant fire so far.
6 Should earth and hell with malice burn,
Still thou shalt go, and still return
Safe in the Lord! his heav'nly care
Defends thy life from ev'ry fnare,
7 On thee foul fpirits have no pow'r;
And in thy laft departing hour
Angels that trace the airy road,
Shall bear thee homeward to thy God.
PSALM CXXI. Common Metre.
Prefervation by day and night.
O heav'n I lift my waiting eyes,
There all my hopes are laid;
The Lord that built the earth and skies
Is my perpetual aid.
2 Their feet fhall never flide to fall,
Whom he defigns to keep;
His ear attends the fofteft call;
His eyes can never fleep.
3 He will fuftain our weakest pow'rs With his almighty arm,
And watch our most unguarded hours
Against surprising harm.
4 Ifra'l rejoice, and reft fecure,
Thy keeper is the Lord;
His wakeful eyes employ his pow'r
For thine eternal guard.
5 Nor fcorching fun, nor fickly moon
Shall have his leave to fmite;
He fhields thy head from burning noon,
From blafting damps at night.
6 He guards thy foul, he keeps thy breath, Where thickeft dangers come;
Go and return, fecure from death,
Till God commands thee home.
PSALM CXXI. As the 148th Pfalm.
God our preferver.
Pward I lift mine eyes,
Upward
From God is all my aid;
The God that built the skies,
And earth and nature made;
God is the tow'r
To which I fly;
His grace is nigh
In ev'ry hour.
2 My feet fhall never flide,
And fall in fatal fħares,
Since God my guard and guide
Defends me from my fears,
Thole wakeful eyes
That never fleep
Shall ffra'l keep
When dangers rife.
3 No burning heats by day,
Nor blafts of ev❜ning air
Shall take my health away,
If God be with me there:
Thou art my fun,
And thou my fhade,
To guard my head
By night or noon.
4 Haft thou not giv'n thy word
To fave my foul from death!
And I can truft my Lord
To keep my mortal breath;
I'll go and come,
Nor fear to die,
Till from on high
Thou call me home.
PSALM CXXII. Common Metre.
WOW did my heart rejoice to hear
My friends devoutly fay,
"In Zion let us all appear,
"And keep the folemn day !"
2 I love her gates, I love the road;
The church adorn'd with grace
Stands like a palace built for God
To fhew his milder face.
3 Up to her courts with joys unknown
The holy tribes repair;
The Son of David holds his throne,
And fits in judgment there.
He hears our praises and complaints!
And while his awful voice
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