9 Happy the Nation thus endow'd,
But more divinely blefs'd are those
On whom the All-fufficient GOD
Himfelf with all his Grace beftows.

PSALM CXLV.

Metre i..

LONG as I live I'll blefs thy Name,

My KING, my GoD of Love;

My Work and Joy fhall be the fame,
In the bright World above.

2 Great is the LORD, his Pow'r unknown,
And let his Praise be great :
I'll fing the Honours of thy Throne,
Thy Works of Grace repeat.

3 Thy Grace fhall dwell upon my Tongue;
And while my Lips rejoice,
The Men that hear my facred Song
Shall join their cheerful Voice.

4 Fathers to Sons fhall teach thy Name,
And Children learn thy Ways;
Ages to come thy Truth proclaim,
And Nations found thy Praife.

5 Thy glorious Deeds, of ancient Date,
Shall through the World be known;
Thine Arm of Pow'r, thy heav'nly State,
With public Splendor fhown.

6 The World is manag'd by thy Hands,
Thy Saints are rul'd by Love;
And thine eternal Kingdom ftands,
Though Rocks and Hills remove.

SWEET is the Mem'ry of thy Grace,
My God, my heav'nly KING!

Let Age to Age thy Righteoufnels
In Sounds of Glory fing:

8 GOD reigns on high, but not confines
His Goodnefs to the Skies;

9

Through the whole Earth his Bounty fhines,
And ev'ry Want supplies.

With longing Eyes thy Creatures wait
On Thee for daily Food;

Thy liberal Hand provides their Meat,
And fills their Mouths with Good.

I How kind are thy Compaffions, LORD!!
How flow thine Anger moves!
But foon He fends his pard'ning Word
To cheer the Souls He loves.

II Creatures, with all their endless Race,
Thy Pow'r and Praife proclaim;
But Saints, that taste thy richer Grace,›
Delight to blefs thy Name.

12 LET ev'ry Tongue thy Goodness speak, Thou fov'reign LORD of All:

13

Thy ftrength'ning Hands uphold the Weak,
And raise the Poor that fall.

When Sorrow bows the Spirit down,
Or Virtue lies diftreft

Beneath fome proud Oppreffor's Frown,
Thou giv't the Mourners Reft.

1

14 The LORD fupports our tott'ring Days, And guides our giddy Youth:

Holy and Juft are all his Ways,

And all his Words are Truth.

15 He knows the Pain his Servants feel,
He hears his Children cry,
And their best Wishes to fulfil
His Grace is ever nigh.

16 His Mercy never fhall remove
From Men of Heart fincere;

He faves the Souls, whofe humble Love
Is join'd with holy Fear.

17 My Lips fhall dwell upon his Praife,
And fpread his Fame abroad:

I

Let all the Sons of Adam raise
The Honours of their God.

PSALM CXLV.

MY

Metre ii.

Y GOD, my, KING, thy various Praise
Shall fill the Remnant of my Days:
Thy Grace employ my humble Tongue
Till Death and Glory raise the Song.

2 The Wings of ev'ry Hour fhall bear
Some thankful Tribute to thine Ear ;
And every fetting Sun fhall fee

New Works of Duty done for Thee.

Thy Truth and Juftice I'll proclaim;
Thy Bounty flows, an endless Stream;
Thy Mercy fwift, thine Anger flow,
But dreadful to the ftubborn Foe.

4 Thy Works with fov'reign Glory fhine,
And fpeak thy Majefty divine;

Let Britain round her Shores proclaim
The Sound and Honour of thy Name.

5 Let diftant Times and Nations raife
The long Succeffion of thy Praife;
And unborn Ages make my Song
The Joy and Labour of their Tongue.

6 But who can speak thy wondrous Deeds?
Thy Greatnefs all our Thoughts exceeds;
Vaft and unfearchable thy Ways,
Vaft and immortal be thy Praise.

PSALM CXLVI.

Metre i.

PRAISE the LORD, and thou, my Soul,
For ever blefs his Name;

His wondrous Love, while Life fhall laft,
My.conftant Praise fhall claim.

2 On Kings, the greatest Sons of Men
Let none for Aid rely;

They cannot fave in dang'rous Times,
Nor timely Help apply.

3 Depriv'd of Breath, to Duft they turn,
And there neglected lie;

And all their Thoughts and vain Designs
Together with them die.

Then happy he, who Jacob's GOD
For his Protector takes;

Who ftill, with well-plac'd Hope, the LORD
His conftant Refuge makes.

5 The LORD who made both Heav'n and Earth,
And All that they contain,
Will never quit his steadfast Truth,
Nor make his Promise vain.

6 The Poor opprefs'd, from all their Wrongs
Are eas'd by his Decree :

He gives the Hungry needful Food,
And fets the Pris'ners free.

7 The GoD, that does in Sion dwell, Is our eternal KING:

I

From Age to Age his Reign endures,
Let All his Praises fing.

I'

PSALM

CXLVI.

Metre ii.

'LL praife my MAKER with my Breath; And when my Voice is loft in Death, Praise fhall employ my nobler Pow'rs: My Days of Praife fhall ne'er be past, While Life, and Thought, and Being laft, Or Immortality endures.

2 Why fhould I make a Man my Truft? Princes muft die and turn to Dust :

Vain is the Help of Flesh and Blood;
Their Breath departs, their Pomp and Pow'r,
And Thoughts, all vanifh in an Hour;
Nor can they make their Promise good.

3 Happy the Man whofe Hopes rely
On Ifrael's GOD: He made the Sky,

And Earth, and Seas, with all their Train;

His Truth for ever ftands fecure:

He faves th' Oppreft, he feeds the Poor;
And none fhall find his Promise vain.