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Shall they advance their heads in pride,
And fill thy faints devour?

3 They put thy judgments from their fight, And then infult the poor;

They boaft in their exalted height,
That they shall fall no more.

4 Arife, O God, lift up thine hand,
Attend our humble cry:

No enemy

inall dare to ftand

When God afcends on high.

PAUSE.

5 Why do the men of malice rage,
And fay with foolish pride,
"The God of heav'n will ne'er engage
"To fight on Zion's fide,"

6 But thou for ever art our Lord;
And pow'rful is thine hand,

As when the heathens felt thy fword,
And perish'd from thy land.

7 Thou wilt prepare our hearts to pray,
And caufe thine ear to hear;
He hearkens what his children say,
And puts the world in fear.

8 Proud tyrants fhall no more oppress,
No more defpife the juft;
And mighty finners fhall confefs
They are but earth and duft.

PSALM XI.

God loves the righteous and hates the wicked.
Y refuge is the God of love,

M Why do my foes infult and cry,

"Fly like a tim'rous trembling dove, "To diftant woods or mountains fly." 2 If government be all destroy'd, (That firm foundation of our peace) And violence make juftice void,

Where shall the righteous feek redress?

3 The Lord in heav'n has fix'd his throne, His eye furveys the world below:

To him all mortal things are known, His eye lids fearch our fpirits thro'. 4 If he afflicts his faints fo far,

To prove their love, and try their grace,
What may the bold tranfgreffors fear?
His very foul abhors their ways.
5 On impious wretches he fhall rain
Tempefts of brimstone, fire and death,
Such as he kindled on the plain

Of Sodom, with his angry breath.

6 The righteous Lord loves righteous fouls,
Whofe thoughts and actions are fincere,
And with a gracious eye beholds
The men that his own image bear.

PSALM XII. Long Metre.

The faint's fafety and hope in evil times: or, Sins of the tongue complained of, viz. blafphemy, false" hood, &c.

Virtue and truth will fly away;

if thou doft foon appear,

A faithful man amongst us here,
Will fcarce be found if thou delay.

2 The whole difcourfe when neighbours meet,
Is fill'd with trifles loofe and vain;

Their lips are flatt'ry and deceit,
And their proud language is profane.
3 But lips that with deceit abound
Shall not maintain their triumph long;
The God of vengeance will confound
Their flatt'ring and blafpheming tongue.
4 "Yet shall our words be free, they cry;
"Our tongue shall be controul'd by none:
"Where is the Lord will afk us why?
"Or fay our lips are not our own?”
5 The Lord who fees the poor oppress'd,
And hears th' oppreffor's haughty strain,
Will rife to give his children reft,
Nor fhall they trust his word in vain.
6 Thy word, O Lord, tho' often try'd,
Void of deceit shall still appear;
Not filver fev'n times purify'd

From drofs and mixture fhines fo clear.
7 Thy grace shall in the darkest hour
Defend the holy foul from harm;
Tho' when the vilest men have pow'r,
On ev'ry fide will finners fwarm.

PSALM XII. Common Metre.

Complaint of a general corruption of manners: or, The promife and figns of Christ's coming to judgment.

TELP, Lord, for men of virtue fail,
Religion lofes ground;

HER

The fons of violence prevail,
And treacheries abound.

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2 Their oaths and promises they break,
Yet act the flatt'rer's part;
With fair deceitful lips they speak,
And with a double heart.

3

If we reprove fome hateful lie,
How is their fury stirr'd!
"Are not our lips our own, they cry,
"And who fhall be our lord?"

4 Scoffers appear on ev'ry fide,
Where a vile race of men

Is rais'd to feats of pow'r and pride,
And bears the fword in vain.

PAUSE.

5 Lord, when iniquities abound,
And blafphemy grows bold,
When faith is hardly to be found,
And love is waxing cold:
6. Is not thy chariot haft'ning on?
Haft thou not giv'n the fign?
May we not truft and live upon
A promise fo divine?

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"Yes, faith the Lord, now will I rife,

"And make oppressors flee?

"I fhall appear to their furprize,

"And fet my fervants free."

8 Thy word like filver fev' times try'd,
Thro' ages fhall endure;

The men that in thy truth confide,
Shall find the promise fure.

PSALM XIII. Long Metre.

Pleading with God under desertion: or, Hope in darkness.

Hike one that feeks his God in vain?
TOW long, O Lord, fhall I complain,

Canft thou thy face for ever hide?
And I ftill pray, and be deny'd?

2 Shall I for ever be forgot,

As one whom thou regardest not?
Still fhall my foul thine abfence mourn?
And still defpair of thy return?

3 How long fhall my poor troubled breast
Be with these anxious thoughts oppreft?
And Satan, my malicious foe,

Rejoice to fee me funk fo low?

4 Hear, Lord, and grant me quick relief,
Before my death conclude my grief,
If thou withhold thy heav'nly light,
I fleep in everlasting night.

How will the pow'rs of darkness boast,
If but one praying foul be loft?
But I have trusted in thy grace,
And shall again behold thy face.
6 Whate'er my fears or foes fuggeft,
Thou art my hope, my joy, my reft:
My heart fhall feel thy love and raife
My chearful voice to fongs of praife.

PSALM XIII. Common Metre,
Complaint under temptations of the devil.
OW long wilt thou conceal thy face?
My God, how long delay 2

H

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