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The LORD in Heav'n has fix'd his Throne;
His Eyes survey the World below :
To Him all mortal Things are known;

His Eyelids search our Spirits through. 4 If He afflicts his Saints so far,

To prove their Love, and try their Grace,
What may the bold Transgressors fear?
His
very

Soul abhors their Ways.
5 The righteous Lord loves righteous Souls,

Whofe Thoughts and Actions are fincere ;
And with a gracious Eye beholds
The Men that his own Image bear.

PSALM XII. O

Help me, LORD, for few I fee,

Whose Acts conform to thy Decree;
New Arts of Fraud each Heart has known
And speaks a Language not its own;
But God with Vengeance arm'd shall rise,

And scourge the Tongues of Pride and Liesi 2 “ Enough (th' eternal SIRE has cried)

“ Enough my suff'ring Saints have sigh’d,
66 To Me disclos'd their ceaseless Fear,
"s And pour’d their Sorrows in mine Ear :
“ My Hand shall see their Wrongs redrest,

« And footh to Peace their troubled Breaft.** 3

Pure are thy Words, Almighty LORD,
As Silver oft by Fire explor'd:
Thy Love each fruitful Heart shall share,
And Joy in thy protecting Care
Unmoy'd; though Wrongs the Earth o'erspread,
And Viçe triumphant lifts its Head.

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PSA L M XIII.
OW long wilt thou conceal thy Face?

My God, how long delay ?
When shall I feel those heav'nly Rays

That chase my Fears away?
2 How long Mall my poor lab’ring Soul

Wrestle and toil in vain ?
Thy Word can all my Fces control,

And 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 Sun, be Thou my Shield, ,

My Soul in Safety keep;
Make hafte before mine Eyes are feal'd

In Death's eternal Sleep.
5 Since I have always plac'd my Trust

Beneath thy Mercy's Wing,
Thy saving Health will come, and then

My Heart with Joy shall spring.
6 Thou wilt display that sov’reign Grace

Where all my Hopes have hung; I shall employ my Lips in Praise,

And Viet’ry shall be sung.

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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?

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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.
4 Who Vice, in all its Pomp and Pow'r

Can treat with just Neglect ;
And Piety, though cloath'd in Rags,

Religiously respect.
5 Who on his plighted Vows and Trust

Has ever firmly stood ;
And tho' he promise to his Loss,

He makes his Promise good.
6 Whofe Hands disdain a golden Bribe,

And never gripe the Poor ;
This Man when Earth's Foundation shakes

Shall stand with God secure,

PSALM XVI.

'

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.
2 Oft have my Heart and Tongue confest

How empty and how poor I am ;
My Praile can never make Thee blest,
Nor add new Glories to thy Name.

3 Yet, Lord, thy Saints on Earth may reap

Some Profit by the Good we do;
These are the Company I keep,

These are the choicest Friends I know. 4

Let others chuse the Sons of Mirth
To give a Relish to their Wine ;
I love the Men of heav'nly Birth,
Whofe Thoughts and Language are divine.

P ART II.
5 HOW fast their Guilt and Sorrows rise,

Who haste to seek fome Idol-God?
I will not taste their Sacrifice,

Their Off rings of forbidden Blood. 6 My God provides a richer Cup,

And nobler Food to live upon ;
He for my Life has offer'd up

Jesus his best beloved Son.
7 His Love is my perpetual Feast;

By Day his Counsels guide me right:
And be his Name for ever bleft,

Who gives me sweet Advice by Night. 8 I set Him still before mine Eyes;

At my right Hand He stands, prepard
To keep my Soul from all Surprise,
And be my everlasting Guard.

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g WHEN God is nigh, my Faith is strong,

His Arm is my Almighty Prop :
Be glad, my Heart, rejoice my Tongue,
My dying Flesh fhall rest in Hope.

10 Tho' in the Dust I lay my Head,

Yet, gracious God, Thou wilt not leave
My Soul for ever with the Dead,

Nor lose thy Children in the Grave. 11 My Flesh shall thy first Call obey,

Shake off the Dust, and rise on high ;
Then shalt Thou lead the wondrous Way

Up to thy Throne above the Sky. 12 There Streams of endless Pleasure flow;

And full Discov'ries of thy Grace
(Which we but tafted here below)
Spread heav'nly Joys thro' all the Place.

PSALM

XVII,

Metre i,

RISE, my gracious God,

And make the Wicked flee :
They are but thy chastising Rod,

To drive thy Saints to T'hee.
Behold the Sinner dies,
His haughty Words are vain;
Here in this Life his Pleasure lies,

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;
And stand compleat in Righteousness,

Wash'd in my Saviour's Blood.

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