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The LORD in Heav'n has fix'd his Throne;
His Eyelids search our Spirits through. 4 If He afflicts his Saints so far,
To prove their Love, and try their Grace,
Soul abhors their Ways.
Whofe Thoughts and Actions are fincere ;
PSALM XII. O
Help me, LORD, for few I fee,
Whose Acts conform to thy Decree;
And scourge the Tongues of Pride and Liesi 2 “ Enough (th' eternal SIRE has cried)
“ Enough my suff'ring Saints have sigh’d,
« And footh to Peace their troubled Breaft.** 3
Pure are thy Words, Almighty LORD,
PSA L M XIII.
My God, how long delay ?
That chase my Fears away?
Wrestle and toil in vain ?
And ease my raging Pain.
All his malicious Arts,
And throws his fiery Darts.
My Soul in Safety keep;
In Death's eternal Sleep.
Beneath thy Mercy's Wing,
My Heart with Joy shall spring.
Where all my Hopes have hung; I shall employ my Lips in Praise,
And Viet’ry shall be sung.
PSA L M XV. LO
ORD, who's the happy Man that may
To thy blest Courts repair ? Not Stranger like, to visit them,
But to inhabit there?
2 The Man who walks in pious Ways,
And works with righteous Hands; Who trusts his Maker's Promises,
And follows his Commands.
3 He speaks the Meaning of his Heart,
Nor flanders with his Tongue ; Will scarce believe an ill Report,
Nor do his Neighbour Wrong.
Can treat with just Neglect ;
Has ever firmly stood ;
He makes his Promise good.
And never gripe the Poor ;
Shall stand with God secure,
RESERVE me, Lord, in Time of Need,
For Succour to thy Throne I flee, But have no Merits there to plead ;
My Goodness cannot reach to Thee.
How empty and how poor I am ;
3 Yet, Lord, thy Saints on Earth may reap
Some Profit by the Good we do;
These are the choicest Friends I know. 4
Let others chuse the Sons of Mirth
P ART II.
Who haste to seek fome Idol-God?
Their Off rings of forbidden Blood. 6 My God provides a richer Cup,
And nobler Food to live upon ;
Jesus his best beloved Son.
By Day his Counsels guide me right:
Who gives me sweet Advice by Night. 8 I set Him still before mine Eyes;
At my right Hand He stands, prepard
g WHEN God is nigh, my Faith is strong,
His Arm is my Almighty Prop :
10 Tho' in the Dust I lay my Head,
Yet, gracious God, Thou wilt not leave
Nor lose thy Children in the Grave. 11 My Flesh shall thy first Call obey,
Shake off the Dust, and rise on high ;
Up to thy Throne above the Sky. 12 There Streams of endless Pleasure flow;
And full Discov'ries of thy Grace
RISE, my gracious God,
And make the Wicked flee :
To drive thy Saints to T'hee.
And all beyond is Pain. 3
Then let his Pride advance,
And boast of all his Store; The Lord is my Inheritance,
My Soul can wish no more. 4
I shall behold the Face
Of my forgiving God;
Wash'd in my Saviour's Blood.