2 Thine Eye my Bed and Path furveys, My public Haunts and private Ways; Thou know't what 'tis my Lips would vent, My yet unutter'd Word's Intent. 3 Surrounded by thy Pow'r I ftand, On ev'ry Side I find thy Hand : O Skill, for human Reach too high! Too dazzling bright for mortal Eye! 4 O could I fo perfidious be, 5 To think of once deferting thee! Where, Lord, could i thy Influence shun? Or whither from thy Prefence run? If up to Heav'n I take my Flight, 'Tis there thou dwell'it enthron'd in Light: Or dive to Hell's infernal Plains, 'Tis there almighty Vengeance reigns. 6 If I the Morning's Wings could gain, And fly beyond the western Main, Thy fwifter Hand would first arrive, And there arreft thy Fugitive. PSALM CXXXIX. P. 2. I I'LL praise thee from whofe Hands I came, Thou Thou faw'ft the daily Growth they took, Form'd by the Model of thy Book.. 4 Let me acknowledge too, O God, That fince this Maze of Life I trod, Thy Thoughts of Love to me furmount The Pow'r of Numbers to recount. 5 Far fooner could I reckon o'er The Sands upon the Ocean's Shore; Correct me where I go aftray, PSALM CXLV. THEE I'll extol, my God and King, This Tribute daily I will bring, and ever bless thy Name. 2 Thou, Lord,' beyond Compare art great, and highly to be prais'd; Thy Majefty, with boundless Height, 3 Renown'd for mighty Acts, thy Fame From Age to Age thy glorious Name fucceffively defcends. 4 Whilft I thy Glory and Renown, and wond'rous Works exprefs; The World with me thy Might shall own, and thy great Pow'r confefs. 5 The Praife that to thy Love belongs, Thy Truth of all their grateful Songs PSALM CXLVI. O Praise the Lord, and thou, my Soul, for ever blefs his Name; His wond'rous Love, while Life fhall laft, my conftant Praise fhall claim. 2 On Kings, the greatest Sons of Men, They cannot fave in dang❜rous Times, 3 Depriv'd of Breath, to Duft they turn, And all their Thoughts and vain Designs together with them die. 4 Then happy he, who Jacob's God for his Protector takes ; 5 Who ftill, with well-plac'd Hope, the Lord his conftant Refuge makes. The God that does in Sion dwell, is our eternal King: From Age to Age his Reign endures, let all his Praises fing. PSALM CXLVII. Praise the Lord with Hymns of Joy, and celebrate his Fame! For pleasant, good, and comely 'tis to praise his holy Name. 2 He kindly heals the broken Hearts, and all their Wounds doth close; He tells the Number of the Stars, their fev'ral Names he knows. Great is the Lord, and great his Pow'r, 3 his Wifdom has no Bound: The Meek he raifes, and throws down the Wicked to the Ground. 4 To God, the Lord, a Hymn of Praise with grateful Voices fing: -I To Songs of Triumph tune the Harp, and ftrike each warbling String. YE boundless Realms of Joy, His Praise your Song employ Your Voices raise, And Seraphim, To fing his Praife. 2 Thou Moon, that rul'ft the Night, 3 Ye Heav'ns above, In liquid Air, Let them adore the Lord, By whofe almighty Word Stands ever faft. 4 United Zeal be shown, 5 His chofen Saints to grace, 1 Praise the Lord in that bleft Place, from whence his Goodness largely flows: Praise him in Heav'n, where he his Face unveil'd in perfect Glory fhows. 2 Praise him for all the mighty Acts, with which our Praise should equal run. 3 Let |