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The LORD in Heav'n has fix'd his Throne;
His Eyes furvey the World below:

To Him all mortal Things are known;

His Eyelids fearch our Spirits through. 4 If He afflicts his Saints fo far,

To prove their Love, and try their Grace,
What may the bold Tranfgreffors fear?
Soul abhors their Ways.

His very

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.

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PSALM XII.

Help me, LORD, for few I fee,

Whofe Acts conform to thy Decree ;
New Arts of Fraud each Heart has known
And fpeaks a Language not its own;

But GOD with Vengeance arm'd fhall rife,
And fcourge the Tongues of Pride and Lies:

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Enough (th' eternal SIRE has cried)

Enough my fuff'ring Saints have figh'd, "To Me difclos'd their ceaseless Fear, "And pour'd their Sorrows in mine Ear : "My Hand fhall fee their Wrongs redreft, "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 fhall share,
And Joy in thy protecting Care

Unmoy'd; though Wrongs the Earth o'erfpread And Vice triumphant lifts its Head.

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OW long wilt thou conceal thy Face?
My God, how long delay?

When fhall I feel thofe heav'nly Rays
That chafe my Fears away?

2 How long fhall my poor lab'ring Soul
Wrestle and toil in vain?
Thy Word can all my Fees control,
And eafe my raging Pain.

3 See how the Prince of Darkness tries.
All his malicious Arts,

He spreads a Mift 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 Truft
Beneath thy Mercy's Wing,

Thy faving Health will come, and then
My Heart with Joy fhall spring.

6 Thou wilt display that fov'reign Grace
Where all my Hopes have hung;
I fhall employ my Lips in Praife,
And Vict'ry fhall be fung.

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ORD, who's the happy Man that may
To thy bleft 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 trufts his Maker's Promises,
And follows his Commands.

3 He fpeaks the Meaning of his Heart,
Nor flanders with his Tongue;
Will fcarce 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 Truft
Has ever firmly flood;
And tho' he promise to his Lofs,
He makes his Promise good.

6 Whofe Hands difdain a golden Bribe,
And never gripe the Poor;

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This Man when Earth's Foundation fhakes
Shall ftand with GOD fecure.

'PR

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 confeft
How empty and how poor I am;
My Praise 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,

4

Thefe are the choiceft Friends I know.

Let others chufe the Sons of Mirth

To give a Relifh to their Wine;

I love the Men of heav'nly Birth,

Whofe Thoughts and Language are divine.

PART II.

5 HOW faft their Guilt and Sorrows rife,
Who hafte to feek fome Idol-God?
I will not tafte 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 Feaft;
By Day his Counfels guide me right:
And be his Name for ever blest,
Who gives me fweet Advice by Night.
8 I fet Him ftill before mine Eyes;
At my right Hand He ftands, prepar'd
To keep my Soul from all Surprife,
And be my everlafting Guard.

PART III.

9 WHEN GOD is nigh, my Faith is strong, His Arm is my Almighty Prop:

Be glad, my Heart, rejoice my Tongue,
My dying Flefh fhall reft in Hope.

10 Tho' in the Duft 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 fhall thy first Call obey,
Shake off the Duft, and rife on high;
Then fhalt Thou lead the wondrous Way
Up to thy Throne above the Sky.

12 There Streams of endless Pleasure flow;
And full Difcov'ries of thy Grace
(Which we but tafted here below)
Spread heav'nly Joys thro' all the Place.

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PSALM

XVII. Metre i

ARISE, my gracious GOD,

And make the Wicked flee :

They are but thy chaftifing Rod,
To drive thy Saints to Thee.

Behold the Sinner dies,
His haughty Words are vain;
Here in this Life his Pleasure lies,
And all beyond is Pain.

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Then let his Pride advance,
And boaft of all his Store;
The LORD is my Inheritance,
My Soul can wish no more.

I fhall behold the Face
Of my forgiving GoD ;

And ftand compleat in Righteousness,
Wash'd in my SAVIOUR'S Blood.

i,

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