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2 Ye angels, spread the joyful sound,
While all th' adoring throngs around
His wondrous mercy sing;
Let ev'ry list'ning saint above,
Wake all the tuneful soul of love,
And touch the loudest string.

3 Thou heav'n of heav'ns, his vast abode,
Ye clouds, proclaim your Maker, God,
Ye thunders, speak his power;
Lo! on the lightning's rapid wings,
In triumph rides the King of kings;
Th' astonish'd worlds adore.

4 Ye deeps, with roaring billows rise,
To join the thunder of the skies,
Praise him who bids you roll;
His praise in softer notes declare,
Each whisp'ring breeze of yielding air,
And breathe it to the soul.

5 Wake, all ye soaring throng, and sing ;
Ye cheerful warblers of the spring,
Harmonious anthems raise,

To him who shap'd your finer mould,
Who tipt your glitt'ring wings with gold,
And tun'd your voice to praise.

6 Let man, by nobler passions sway'd,
The feeling heart, the reas'ning head,
In heav'nly praise employ ;
Spread the Creator's name around,
Till heav'n's wide arch repeat the sound,
The gen❜ral burst of joy.

B. WILLIAMS's Collection.

PSALM CXLIX. Particular Metre. *

Thanksgiving.

10 PRAISE ye the Lord!
Prepare your glad voice,
His praise in the great
Assembly to sing.
In their great Creator
Let all men rejoice,
And heirs of salvation
Be glad in their King.
2 Let them his great name
Devoutly adore;

In loud swelling strains
His praises express,
Who graciously opens
His bountiful store,
Their wants to relieve, and
His children to bless.

3 With glory adorn'd,
His people shall sing
To God, who defence
And plenty supplies;
Their loud acclamations
To him their great King,
Through earth shall be sounded,
And reach to the skies.
4 Ye angels above,

His glories who've sung,
In loftiest notes,

Now publish his praise:
We, mortals, delighted,
Would borrow your tongue;
Would join in your numbers,
And chant to your lays.

TATE varied.

PSALM CL.

Long Metre.

*

Praise.

1 PRAISE ye the Lord! let praise employ,
In his own courts, your songs of joy;
The spacious firmament around
Shall echo back the joyful sound.

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2 Recount his works in strains divine,
His wondrous works, how bright they shine!
Praise him for all his mighty deeds,
Whose greatness all your praise exceeds.
3 Awake the trumpet's piercing sound,
To spread your sacred pleasure round;
While softer musick tunes the lute,
The warbling harp, the breathing flute.
4 Ye virgin train, with joy advance,
To praise him in the graceful dance;
Awake each voice, and strike each string,
And to the solemn organ sing.

5 Let the loud cymbal sound on high,
To softer, deeper notes reply;
Harmonious, let the concert rise,
And bear the rapture to the skies.
6 Let all whom life and breath inspire
Attend and join the blissful choir;
But chiefly ye who know his word,
Adore, and love, and praise the Lord!

Mrs. STEELE.

END OF THE PSALMS.

ALPHABETICAL INDEX

OF THE

First Lines of the Psalms, referring to the Pages.

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Approach, ye piously dispos'd
Arise, my tender thoughts, arise

As pants the hart for cooling streams
As showers on meadows newly mown
Attend, O earth, when God declares
Awake, my soul, to hymns of praise
Awake, ye saints, to praise your King
Awake, ye tempests, and his fame

53

174

.63

100

8

146

196

258

BEFORE Jehovah's awful throne
Before the hills in order stood
Begin, my soul, th' exalted lay
Behold, O God, how cruel foes

Behold the corner stone

138

125

228

107

170

Behold the fool, whose heart denies
Behold the love, the generous love
Behold the morning sun

Behold the rising dawn appear

Beneath God's terrors doom'd to groan

75

54

32

185

158

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