14 Create my Nature pure within,
And form my Soul averfe to Sin:
Let thy good SPIRIT ne'er depart,
Nor hide thy Prefence from my Heart.

15 I cannot live without thy Light,
Caft out and banish'd from thy Sight
Thy holy Joys, my GoD, reftore,
And guard me that I fall no more.

16 Though I have griev'd thy SPIRIT, LORD,
His Help and Comfort ftill afford:
And let a Wretch come near thy Throne
To plead the Merits of thy SON.

17 Then will I teach the World thy Ways;
Sinners fhall learn thy fov'reign Grace;
I'll lead them to my SAVIOUR'S Blood,
And they fhall praise a pard'ning God.

18 O may thy Love infpire my Tongue!
Salvation fhall be all my Song;

I

And all my Pow'rs fhall join to bless
The LORD my Strength and Righteousness.

HY, Tyrant, boafts thy Heart the Pow'r
To work a Brother's Woe;

While GOD his Mercy bids each Hour

In Streams unmeafur'd flow?

2 With Joy thy Tongue, to Falfehood prone,
Its Venom deals around;

Nor Razor, fharpen'd on the Stone,
Inflicts fo deep a Wound.

3 But foon the Juft, with Awe poffefs'd,.
Shall view thy blasted Pride;
And, from their fierceft Foe releas'd,
Thy impious Boasts deride.

4 "Lo! there the Wretch in Trefpafs bold,
"Who God's Support difdain'd,
"And on his Heaps of treafur'd Gold
"His frantic Hope fuftain'd."

5

Frefh as the verdant Olive, I
Within thy Courts shall stand;
And fix'd, indulgent LORD, rely
On thy protecting Hand.

6 Thy Acts my Praise fhall ever claim,
Thy Name, amidst my Woes,

(How grateful to thy Saints that Name!) My ev'ry Fear compofe.

I

FOOLS in their Hearts believe and fay

"That all Religion's vain;

"There is no God that reigns on high, "Or minds th' Affairs of Men."

2 From Thoughts fo dreadful and profane Corrupt Difcourfe proceeds;

3

And in their impious Hands are found
Abominable Deeds.

The LORD from his celeftial Throne
Look'd down on Things below,

To find the Man that fought his Grace,
Or did his Juftice know..

4 By Nature all are gone aftray;

Their Practice all the fame:

There's none that fears his MAKER'S Hand;
There's none that loves his Name.

5 Such Seeds of Sin (that bitter Root)
In ev'ry Heart are found;
Nor can they bear diviner Fruit,
"Till Grace refine the Ground.

6 ARE all the Foes of Sion Fools,
Who thus devour her Saints?

Do they not know her SAVIOUR rules,
And pities her Complaints ?

7 They fhall be feiz'd with fad Surprize ;
For God's avenging Arm
Scatters the Bones of them, that rife
To do his Children Harm.

8 In vain the Sons of Satan boast
Of Armies in Array;

When God has first defpis'd their Hoft,
They fall an eafy Prey.

9 O for a Word from Sion's KING,
Her Captives to restore!

Jacob with All his Tribes fhall fing,
And Judah mourn no more.

PSALM LIV.

HY name my ftedfaft Heart avows;
Do THOU my injur'd Caufe efpoufe,
And be thy Strength my Aid:

My Plaints, Almighty SAVIOUR, hear,
And let them by thy pitying Ear

With full Regard be weigh'da

2 Oppreffors from thy Fear eftrang'd, With Tyrants fierce, against me rang'd, My guiltlefs Soul purfue:

But 'midft my Helpers Heav'n's high LORD Shall ftand, and, faithful to his Word, Each adverse Pow'r fubdue.

3 O let my Heart, (their Rage repell'd,)
Itfelf a willing Off'ring yield;

To THEE its Praife fhall flow,
While to my Thought thy Mercies rise,
That gave me, with admiring Eyes,
To see my proftrate Foe.

PSALM LV. Metre i.

GOD, my REFUGE, hear my Cries,
Behold my flowing Tears,

For Earth and Hell my Hurt devise,
And triumph in my Fears.

2 Their Rage is levell'd at my Life,
My Soul with Guilt they load,
And fill my Thoughts with inward Strife,
To fhake my Hope in GOD.

3 With inward Pain my Heart-ftrings found,
I groan with ev'ry Breath;
Horror and Fear befet me round
Among the Shades of Death.

4 O were I like a feather'd Dove,
And Innocence had Wings;
I'd fly, and make a long Remove
From all these restless Things.

5 Let me to fome wild Defert go,
And find a peaceful Home,
Where Storms of Malice never blow,
Temptations never come.

6 Vain Hope's, and vain Inventions all,
To 'fcape the Rage of Hell!
The mighty GoD on whom I call
Can fave me here, as well.

7 BY Morning-Light I'll feek his Face,
At Noon repeat my Cry,

The Night fhall hear me afk his Grace,
Nor will He long deny.

8 Gon fhall preferve my Soul from Fear,
Or fhield me when afraid;
Ten thousand Angels must appear,
If He command their Aid.

9

I caft my Burdens on the LORD,
The LORD fuftains them all;
My Courage refts upon his Word
That Saints fhall never fall.

ro My highest Hopes fhall not be vain,
My Lips fhall spread his Praife;
While cruel and deceitful Men
Scarce live out half their days.

PSALM LV. Metre ii.

HEAR my Voice, All-potent SIRE, Nor diftant from my Pray'r retire, Whofe Accents to thine Ear impart The Anguish of my heaving Heart.