PSALM LXXXV. 1 THY land to favour graciously Thou hast not, Lord, been slack; 2 The iniquity thou didst forgive 3 Thine anger all thou hadst remov'd, From thy fierce wrath which we had prov'd 4 God of our saving health and peace, 5 Wilt thou be angry without end, Wilt thou thy frowning ire extend 6 Wilt thou not turn and hear our voice, That so thy people may rejoice 7 Cause us to see thy goodness, Lord, Thy saving health to us afford, 8 And now, what God the Lord will speak, To his dear saints he will speak peace; 9 Surely, to such as do him fear And glory shall ere long appear 10 Mercy and Truth, that long were miss'd, Sweet Peace and Righteousness have kiss'd, 11 Truth from the earth, like to a flower, And Justice, from her heavenly bower, 12 The Lord will also then bestow Our land shall forth in plenty throw 13 Before him Righteousness shall go, Then will he come, and not be slow, PSALM LXXXVI. 1 THY gracious ear, O Lord, incline, 2 Preserve my soul; for I have trod 3 Pity me, Lord, for daily thee 4 I call; O make rejoice Thy servant's soul; for, Lord, to thee I lift my soul and voice. 5 For thou art good, thou, Lord, art prone To pardon, thou to all Art full of mercy, thou alone To them that on thee call. 6 Unto my supplication, Lord, Of my incessant prayers afford 7 I, in the day of my distress, 8 Like thee among the Gods is none, 9 The Nations all whom thou hast made 10 For great thou art, and wonders great 11 Teach me, O Lord, thy way most right I in thy truth will bide; To fear thy Name my heart unite, 12 Thee will I praise, O Lord my God, With my whole heart, and blaze abroad 13 For great thy mercy is toward me, And thou hast freed my soul, Even from the lowest hell set free, From deepest darkness foul. 14 O God, the proud against me rise, To seek my life, and in their eyes 15 But thou, Lord, art the God most mild, 16 0, turn to me thy face at length, Unto thy servant give thy strength, 17 Some sign of good to me afford, And let foes then see, my And be asham'd; because thou, Lord, Dost help and comfort me. PSALM LXXXVII. 1 AMONG the holy mountains high 2 Sion's fair gates the Lord loves more Than all the dwellings fair Of Jacob's land, though there be store, |