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And while thy Mercy on our Heads
To Thee, my SAVIOUŘ and my KING. 3 Too faithful Followers of our Sires,
Our Life with theirs, great God, conspires
To Israel's Voice, great God, attend;
Thy Praise the Boast of ev'ry Tongue. 5 O, thankful, hail th' Almighty LORD,
The God, by Jacob's Sons ador'd:
PSA L M CVII.
Let Hymns of Praise ascend;
Whofe Mercy knows no End.
gave ; Beheld them by the Foe oppress'd,
And reachd his Arm to fave.
3 To East, to West, to South, to North,
Condemn'd awhile to roam ;
And call'd the Wand'rers home. 4 Behold them o'er the Desert stray,
A helpless, hopeless Train :
They leek, but feek in vain.
Or what their Woes afluage,
Or Famine's fiercest Rage ?
He guides, secures their Feet;
They reach their destin's Seat.
Whose Mercy thus they prove,
The Wonders of his Love.
8 WHO o'er the Waves from Shore to Shore
The Gifts of Commerce bear, The Wonders of the Deep explore,
And own that God is there.
By these are understood ;
And rising lifts the Flood.
10 Now high as Heav'n the Bark ascends,
Now seeks the Depth below:
And melts with inward Woe.
They reel from Side to Side :
Nor Reason wakes to guide. 12 Distreft, to God they make their Pray'r,
Obedient to his Will,
The Seas that roar'd, are still.
They see their Labour o'er ;
And touch the wish'd-for Shore.
Whofe Mercy thus they prove ;
The Wonders of his Love.
PA R T III.
15 GOD speaks ; and lo, a burning Waste,
Where roll’d the Floods before ;
The Springs are seen no more. 16 Sad Witness of some dire Offence,
Behold the fertile Soil
The liquid Lake is spread ::
And murm’ring lift the Head.,
The tender Vine they rear ;
And Plenty, crowns, the Year. . 19 Anon, if, sunk with heaviest Woe,
They feel Oppression's Pow'r; Though civil Rage, or conqu’ring. Foe,
Their boasted Strength devour ; 20 His Hand affords the wish'd Release,
Collects their scatter'd Train;,
That fill the verdant Plain.
The Heav'n-instructed Mind
His Providence how kind.
PSALM CVIII. Metre i.
GOD, my Heart is fully bent
To magnify thy Name My Tongue, with cheerful Songs of Praise,
Shall celebrate thy Fame. 2 Awake, my.. Lute, nor thou, my Harp,
Thy warbling Notès delay; While I, with early Hymns of Joy,
Prevent the dawning Day.
3 To all the lift'ning Tribes, O LORD,
Thy Wonders I will tell,
That round about us dwell. 4 Because thy Mercy's boundless Height
The highest Heav'n transcends;
Thy Faithfulness extends.
Above the starry Frame;
Confess thy glorious Name.
Their Saviour may declare, Let thy Right-Hand protect me ftill,
And answer Thou my Pray’r.
PSALM CVIII. Metre ii.
AGOD, my Heart is fix'd, is bent,
Its thankful Tribute to present ; And, with my Heart, my Voice I'll raise
To Thee, my God, in Songs of Praise. 2 Awake my Glory,--Harp and Lute,
No longer let your Strings be mute;
Will with the early Dawn awake. 3 Thy Praises, Lord, I will resound
To all the listning Nations round; Thy. Mercy highest Heav'n transcends, Thy Truth beyond the Clouds extends.