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Not Fruits nor Wines that tempt our Taste,
Nor all the joys our Senses know,
Could make me so divinely bleft,

Or raise my cheerful Paffions fo.
6 My Life itself, without thy Love,

Nó Taste of Pleasure could afford;
'Twould but a tiresome Burden prove

If I were banish'd from the LORD.
7 Amidst the wakeful Hours of Night,

When busy Cares afflict my Head,
One Thought of THEE gives new Delight,

And adds Refreshment to my Bed.
8 I'll lift my Hands, I'll raise my Voice,

While I have Breath to pray or praise;
This Work shall make my Heart rejoice,
And spend the Remnant of my Days.

PSALM LXIII.

Metre iv.

TH
HOU art my God, to Thee my Eyes

;
With facred Thirst, O LORD, I burn;
My Heart, my Flesh, thine Absence mourn
As o'er th' inhospitable Way
Amidst a barren Waste I ftray.

2 Yet here, by heav'nly Wisdom led,

Expectant wait, till o'er my Head
Thy Beams in mild Effulgence play,
And turn my Darkness into Day:
Those Beams which oft my Eyes beheld
Within thy Temple, LORD, reveald.

3 Thy Love my Lips fhall ever tell,

(Can Life itself that Love excel?)
Nor cease, while Breath prolongs my Days,
In thankful Notes the Hymn to raise :
To Thee thy Servant, LORD, as now,
His Hands shall rear, his Knees shall bow.

4 Safe in the Shadow of thy Wings

In Thee I joy, O KING OF KINGS:
When Dangers threaten to devour,
(Superior to each adverse Pow'r)
Thine Arm extends, the Help divine,
And long Experience calls it Mine.

PSA L M LXIV.

I

HY Suppliant's Voice propitious hear;

,

Secure, while Men my Soul pursue,

And hide, 0 hide me from their View. 2 Behold the slaughter-breathing Throng

Whet, as a Sword, their baleful Tongue,
And Words, as Arrows keen, prepare,

That, edg’d with Death, shall walk the Air. 3 Ah! Wretches, whither will ye fly?

Behold the Arrow from on high
Descend, that bears upon its Wing
The Wrath of Heav'n's offended KING!

4 Each Heart shall own, with rev’rent Thought,

That Thou the Work, great God, haft wrought, Whilę, rescu'd from their Rage, the Just Exulting, fix on Thee their Truft.

PSA L M LXV.
THE Praise of Sien waits for Thee,

My God; and Praise becomes thy House :
There shall thy Saints thy Glory fee,

And there perform their public Vows.
2 0 Thou, whose Mercy bends the Skies

To save, when humble Sinners pray;
All Lands to Thee shall lift their Eyes,

And Islands of the Northern Sea.
3 Against my Will my Sins prevail,

But Grace shall purge away their Stain;
The Blood of CHRIST will never fail

To wash my Garments white again.
4 Blest is the Man whom Thou shalt choose,

And give him kind Access to Thee;
Grant him a Place within thy House,
To taste thy Love divinely free.

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5 O THOU, the Hope of human Race,

Of All whom Earth's wide Arms embrace,
Of All, who, tost by Tempests, sweep

The Surface of the pathlefs Deep.
6 In Thee they trust, who know'st to rein

The Insults of the foaming Main,
Check the brute Waves that roar aloud,

And still the Madness of the Crowd.
7 Remotest Realms, with dire Disinay,

Thy Wonders, mightiest LORD, survey ;
And, as they walk th' ethereal Round,
The Morn and Eve thy Praise refound.

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8 By unexhausted Springs supply'd,

Thy River pours it's copious Tide,
And bids the strength-infusing Grain

Earth's countless Family sustain. 9 The Clouds, in frequent Show'rs diftilld,

Drop Fatness on the pregnant Field;
Break the tough Glebe, the Furrows cheer,

And crown with Good the gliding Year. 10 The Hills around exulting stand,

And own the Bounty of thy Hand :
Nurs'd by thy Care, the fleecy Train
Invests with white the rural Plain.

11 While, as beneath the fav’ring Skies

In crouded Ranks the Harvests rise,
The laughing Vale assumes a Tongue,
And bursts triumphant into Song.

PS A L M LXVI.

S'S

ING, all ye Nations, to the Lord,

Sing with a joyful Noise; With Melody of Sound record

His Honours and your Joys. 2 Say to the Pow'r that shakes the Sky,

" How terrible art Thou? “ Sinners before thy Presence fly,

" Or at thy Feet they bow."
3 He rules by his refiftless Might;

Will rebel Mortals dare
Provoke th' ETERNAL to the Fight,

And tempt that dreadful War

4 O bless our God, and never cease,

Ye Saints, fulfil his Praise ;
He keeps our Life, maintains our Peace,

And guides our doubtful Ways. 5 LORD, Thou hast prov'd our suff'ring Souls

To make our Graces shine;
So Silver bears the burning Coals

The Metal to refine.

6 Through watry Deeps and fiery Ways

We march at thy Command,
Led to possess the promis'd Place

By thine unerring Hand.

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7 NOW shall my folemn Vows be paid

To that Almighty Pow'r,
Who heard the long Requests I made,
In

my distressful Hour.
8 My Lips and cheerful Heart prepare,

To make his Mercies known;
Come that fear

ny God, and hear
The Wonders He hath done.
9 When on my Head huge Sorrows fell,

I fought his heav'nly Aid;
He fav'd my finking Soul from Hell,

And Death's eternal Shade.

ye

10 If Sin lay cover'd in

my

Heart
While Pray’r employ'd my Tongue,
The Lord had shewn me no Regard,

Nor I his Praises sung.

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