When shall I feel those heav'nly rays

Thar chafe my fears away?
2 How long shall my poor lab'ring fou!

Wrestle and toil in vain ?
Thy word can all my foes controul,

Aod ease my raging pain.
3 See how the prince of darkness tries

All his malicious arts,
He spreads a milt around my eyes,

And throws his fiery darts.
4 Be thou my fun, and thou my shield,

My soul in safety keep;
Make hafte, before mine eyes are seal'd

In death's eternal sleep.
5 How would the tempter boast aloud

If I become his prey ?
Behold the sons of hell grow proud

At thy so long delay.
6 But they shall Ay at thy rebuke,

And Satan hide his head;
He knows the terrors of thy look,

And hears thy voice with dread.
7 T'hou wilt display that sov'reign grace,

Where all my hopes have hung; I shall employ niy lips in praise,

And vict'ry shall be fung.

PSALM XIV. First part.

By nature all men are finners.
TOOLS, in their hearts, believe and say,

" That all religion's vain,
." There is no God that reigns on high,

si Or minds th' affairs of men."

From thoughts fo dreadful and profane

Corrupt discourse proceeds;
And in their impious hands are found

Abominable deeds.
3 The Lord. from his celestial throne,

Look'd down on things below,
To find the man that sought his grace,

Or did his justice know.
4 By nature all are gone astray,

Their practice all the same;
There's none that fears his Maker's hand,

There's none that loves his name.
5 Their tongues are us’d to speak deceit,

Their flanders never cease:
How swift to mischief are their feet!

Nor know the paths of peace. .
6 Such feeds of fin (that bitter root)

Io ev'ry heart are found;
Nor can they bear diviner fruit,

Till grace refine the ground.

A

PSALM XIV. Second part.

The folly of perfecutors. 1

RE figners now so senseless grown,

That they the saints devour?
And never worship at thy throne,

Nor fear thine awful pow'r ?
2 Great God, appear to their surprize,

Reveal thy dreadful name;
Let them no more thy wrath despise,

Nor turn our hope to shame,
3 Dost thou not dwell among the jufty
And yet our foes deride,

That we should make thy name our trust;

Great God, confound their pride.. 4 O that the joyful day were come

To finish our distress!
When God shall bring his children home,

Our songs shall never cease.

WHO

PSALM XV. Common Metre. Characters of a faint, or a citizen of Zion: or, Tht

qualifications of a Christian.
HO shall inhabit in thy hill,

O God of holiness?
Whom will the Lord admit to dwell

So near his throne of grace ?
2 The man that walks in pious ways,

And works with righteous hands;
That trusts his Maker's promises,

And follows his commands.
3 He speaks the meaning of his heart,

Nor Nanders with his tongue;
Will scarce believe an ill report,

Nor do his neighbour wrong.
4 The wealthy finner he contemns,

Loves all that fear the Lord;
And tho' to his own hurt he swears,

Still he performs his word.
His hands disdain a golden bribe,

And never gripe the poor;
This man shall dwell with God on earth,

And find his heav'n fecure.

I

WHO

PSALM XV. Long Metre.
Religion and justice, goodness and truth; or, Duties

to God and man: or, The qualifications of a Chris-
tian.
THO shall ascend thy heav'nly place,

Great God, and dwell before thy face?
The man that minds religion now,

And humbly walks with God below.
2 Whole hands are pure, whose heart is clean,

Whose lips still speak the thing they mean;
No flanders dweli upon his tongue ;

He hates to do his neighbour wrong. 3 [Scarce will he trust an ill report,

Nor vent it to his neighbour's hurt:
Sinpers of state he can despise,

But faints are honour'd in his eyes.] 4 [Firm to his word he ever stood,

And always makes his promise good:
Nor dares to change the thing he twears,

Whatever pain or loss he bears.] 5 [He never deals in bribing gold,

And mouros that justice should be fold;
While others gripe and grind the poor,

Sweet charity attends his door.) 6 He loves his enemies, and prays

For those that corse him to his face;
And doth to all men still the same
That he would hope or wish from them,
Yet when his holiest works are done,
His loul depends on grace alone:
This is the man thy face shall fee,
And dwell for ever, Lord, will thee.

P

PSALM XVI. First Part. Long Metre. Confefñon of our poverty; and Saints the best company: or, Good works prifit men, not God. Reserve me, Lord, ia time of need,

For fuccour to thy throne I fee, But have no merits there to plead;

My goodness cannot reach to thee.
2 Oft have my heart and tongue confeft,

How empty and how poor sam;
My praise can never make thee bleft,

Nor add new glories to thy name.
3 Yet Lord, tv saints on earth may reap

Some profit by the good we do;
Thefe are the company I keep,

These are the choicest friends I koow. 4 Let others chuse the sons of mirth

To give a relish to their wine,
I love the men of heav'nly birth,
Whose thoughts and language are divine.

PSALM XVI. Second Part. Long Metre.

Chrift's all fufficiency.
Tow fast their guilt and sorrows rife,

I will not taste their facrifice,

Their off rings of forbidden blood.
2 My God provides a richer cup,
And nobler food to live upon,
He for my life has offer'd up

Jesus his best beloved fon.
3. His love is my perpetual feast;

By day his counsels guide me right: