PSALM 79. L. M.
Invasion.
1 OPPRESSORS, Lord, a savage band, Of impious heathens tame and wild, Have dar'd to invade our peaceful land, Thine holy temples stand defil'd.. 2 Far from our sight our sons are driven, Or fall inglorious on the plain,
To birds of prey their flesh is given,
Ferocious* beasts devour the slain. 3 Their blood like water freely shed,
Has overflown the trenches 'round,
Our best, our bravest sons have bled,
And lie unburied on the ground.
4 Return, O Lord, return in haste,
Thy vengeance on the heathens pour,
The men who lay the nation waste
O let thy fiercest wrath devour.
5 Why should our foes invade our coast,
And with insulting language say,
Where is the God of whom you boast,
Our arms alone have gain'd the day?
6 Now let the prisoner's humble sigh,
Ascend and reach thy list'ning ear; And as thy dreadful power is nigh, So let thy gracious help be near. 7 The saints shall then in lofty verse, To God their joint hosannas raise, Ages to come thy deeds rehearse, And shout immortal songs of praise.
PSALM 79. S. M.
Jerusalem desolate.
JO GOD, an heathen race
Have dar'd our land to 'invade,
* Ferocious, savage, cruel.
They have defil'd thine holy place,
And dreadful havoc made.
2 Before invaders driven,
Thy servants, Lord, retreat,
The flesh of saints to vultures given,
Becomes their daily meat.
3 Their blood, like water, shed,
Has stain'd the smoking ground,
The bodies of unnumber'd dead,
No sepulcher have found,
4 By savage foes abhorr'd,
The name of saint they spurn;
How long wilt thou be wroth, O Lord?
How long shall anger burn?
5 Remember not our crimes,
But pard'ning grace bestow,
Prevent us with thy love betimes,
For thou hast brought us low.
6 God of salvation hear,
Thy speedy help we crave,
O for thy glorious name appear,
And show thy power to save.
7 Why should the heathens say,
Ah! where is Israel's God?
Now in our sight be known this day,
Lift thine avenging rod.
3 O, let the prisoner's sigh
Before thy throne ascend; Come down in judgment from on high, The helpless to defend.
9 So we to bless thy name,
Our cheerful songs will raise; Ages unborn shall do the same, And sound abroad thy praise.
PSALM 80. L. M.
The church in mourning.
1 GIVE ear, O Shepherd, to thy sheep
Who didst the tribes of Israel keep,
And like a flock didst Joseph guide,
Thro wat❜ry deeps, and desarts wide.
2 O thou, who deign'd to dwell between
The cherubs where thy face was seen;
Shine forth, in all thy glory shine,
With light and energy divine.
3 To thee we cry till nature faints,
Attend, O God, our sad complaints,
Make haste to help without delay,
Stir up thy strength and come away.
4 How long shall saints implore thy grace?
When shall we see thy lovely face?
Descend and bring thy glory near,
We shall be sav'd if God appear.
5 Inur'd to poverty and need,
On bread of tears thy people feed,
And drink instead of cheerful wine,
The trickling drops of fluid brine.
6 Pretended friends beset our life,
Contentious neighbors love the strife;
While envious fools, and laughing foes,
Among themselves deride our woes.
7 Return, O Lord of hosts, in haste,
Before our foes have laid us waste,
Turn us to thee, thy love restore,
We shall be sav'd and sigh no more,
8 Hast thou not planted with thine hands,
A lovely vine in heathen lands?
Did not thy power defend it 'round,
And heavenly dews enrich the ground:
9 Thy vine, the church, in beauteous bloom,
Spread wide its boughs; thou mad'st it room,
Thou didst its wasting strength recruit,
And blest the nations with its fruit.
10 Above the hills it wav'd its head,
Beyond the seas its branches spread;
Nor pine, nor cedar, tall and fair,
Could with this growing vine compare.
11 But now, dear Lord, look down and see
Thy mourning vine, that lovely tree,
That once so far its boughs display'd,
How is its beauty soon decay'd!
12 Behold it droops beneath thy frown,
How are its hedges broken down;
Stranger and foe his hand employs,
And every beast the vine destroys.
13 Return, O Lord, return with speed,
Nor longer let thy vineyard bleed,
Shine forth, O Sun of glory, shine,
And bless thy church, this bleeding vine.
14 Look down, O God, from heaven above,
Visit the people of thy love;
Turn us to thee, thy love restore,
We shall be sav'd and sigh no more.
15 Lord, when this vine in Canaan grew,
Twas oft reviv'd with heavenly dew;
Thou didst its swelling buds disclose,
Till the fair branch of promise rose.
16 Fair branch, ordain'd of old to shoot,
From David's stock, from Jacob's root,
Himself a noble vine, and we
Inferior branches of the tree.
17 Christ is this branch, whom thou hast made The sinner's health, the sinner's shade;
Christ is thy Son, and thou hast blest, Thy first-born Son above the rest. 18 The saints, O Lord, to thee belong, For thou hast made their surety strong, Confirm'd by thee, their cause he won, And thou hast own'd him for thy Son. 19 What if our languid souls grow slack, Yet we from Christ will ne'er go back; But touch'd by love's reviving flame, We'll call for ever on his name. 20 O! for his sake attend our cry, Remit our sins, our wants supply; Turn us to thee, thy love restore, We shall be sav'd and sigh no more. PSALM 81. Part 1. S. M. Independance.
1 TO praise the 'eternal King,
Let men their tongues employ; Come take a psalm, the timbrel bring, And shout aloud for joy.
2 Proclaim the festive day,
Convene the joyful throng,
On instruments of music play,
And cheerful be the song.
3 Blow ye the trumpet, blow,
Begin the jubilee,
Let all the nations round us know
That God has set us free.
4 We sing, O moon, no change,
That waits thy growing horn;
We sing phenomenon* more strange,
Behold the man-child born!†
5 The God of power and grace,
We sought with fervent cries,
* Phenomenon, appearance.
† Rev. xxi. 5.
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