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"'Tis written in thy great Decree,
“ And lo! thy Law is in my Heart. 6 6 I'll magnify thy holy Law,
" And Rebels to Obedience draw,
“ Or to my Crown above the Sky: 7
“ The Spirit shall descend, and show “What Thou hast done, and what I do; “ The wond'ring World shall learn thy Grace,
Thy Wisdom, and thy Righteousness.”
PSA L M XL.
ITH patient Hope my God I sought ;
He to his Suppliant's Want his Thought
In happieft Hour apply'd :
Nor fear my Steps to slide.
In Strains unheard before : Admiring Crowds his Work shall fee, Their Strength on Him repose with Me,
With Me his Name adore.
And Helps which but betray.
Nor Words their Worth display,
Obnoxious Man fhall clear:
And opes a willing Ear.
“ T'avert th' Offender's Doom;
“ I come, my God, I come.”
" To thy mysterious Will :
My Hands with Zeal fulfil."
With Tokens of thy Grace!
In Songs of ceaseless Praise.
LEST, who with gen'rous Pity glows,
Who learns to feel Another's Woes,
2 Thy Love his Life shall guard; thy Hand
Give to his Lot the chosen Land;
O thankful bless th' Almighty LORD,
S pants the Hart for cooling Streams,
When heated in the Chace,
And thy refreshing Grace.
My thirsty Soul doth pine;
Thou Majesty divine!
Insulting Foes upbraid, “ Deluded Wretch, where's now thy God?
" And where his promis'd Aid?”
Trust God, and He'll employ
To thankful Hyınns of Joy.
5 When thy bleft Presence, LORD OF LIFE,
Has once dispelld the Storm;
And all my Vows perform.
Like one forgotten mourn! Forlorn, forsaken, and expos'd
To iny Oppreffor's Scorn! 7 My Heart is pierce'd as with a Sword,
While thus my Foes upbraid, “ Vain Boaster, where is now thy God?
“ And where his promis'd Aid" 8 Why restless, why cast down my Soul ?
Hope still, and thou shalt fing The Praise of Him who is thy God,
Thy Health's eternal SPRING.
PSA L M XLII.
S pants the Hart for cooling Springs,
So longs my Soul, O KING OF KINGS, Thy Face in near Approach to see, So thirsts, great Source of Life, for THEE. When shall I reach thy blest Abode ! When meet the Presence of
2 Thy Mercies, LORD, before my Eyes,
Shall yet in sweet Remembrance rise ;
Yet 'midst the Storin and 'midst the Wave
4 Then why my Soul with Care oppress’d? And whence the Woes that fill
UST JUDGE of Heav'n, against my Foes
? O set me free, my God, from thote
That in Deceit and Wrong delight.
Be Thou my Guide, and lead the Way,
And in thy sacred Temple pray. 3
Then will I there fresh Altars raise
Shall all my grateful Hours employ.
So much oppress'd with anxious Care?