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The nations all whom thou haft made

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Shall come, and all fhall frame'

To bow them low before thee, Lord,

And glorify thy name.

10 For great thou art, and wonders great

By thy ftrong hand are done,

Thou in thy everlasting seat'
Remaineft God alone.

11 Teach me, O Lord, thy way' most right,'

I in thy truth will bide,

To fear thy name my heart unite,

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So fhall it never flide.'

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12 Thee will I praife, O Lord my God,

15 But thou, Lord, art the God most mild,

Readieft thy grace to fhew,

Slow to be angry, and ‹ art stil'd

Moft merciful, moft true.

16 O turn to me thy face at length,'

And me have mercy on,

Unto thy fervant give thy ftrength,

And fave thy handmaid's fon.

17 Some fign of good to me afford,

And let my foes' then' fee,

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And be afham'd, because thou Lord
Doft help and comfort me.

'A'

PSAL. LXXXVII.

MONG the holy mountains high'
Is his foundation fast,

There feated is his fanctuary,'

His temple there is plac'd.'

2 Sion's fair' gates the Lord loves more
Than all the dwellings' fair'

Of Jacob's land, though there be ftore,'
And all within his care.'

3 City of God, moft glorious things
Of thee abroad' are spoke;

4 I mention Egypt, where proud kings'

• Did our forefathers 'yoke.'

I mention Babel to my friends,

Philiftia full of fcorn,'

And Tyre with Ethiops utmost ends,'
Lo this man there was born:

5 But twice that praise fhall in our car'

Be faid of Sion' laft,'

This and this man was born in her,

High God fhall fix her fast.

6 The Lord fhall write it in a scroll
That ne'er fhall be out-worn,

When he the nations doth inroll,
That this man there was born.

7 Both they who fing, and they who dance,
With facred fongs are there,"

In thee fresh brooks, and soft streams glance,
'And' all my fountains clear.'

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'L

PSAL. LXXXVIII.

ORD God that doft me fave and keep,

All day to thee I cry ;

And all night long before thee weep,'
Before thee prostrate lie.'

2 Into thy prefence let my pray'r
• With fighs devout afcend,'

And to my cries, that 'ceafelefs are,'

Thine ear with favor bend.

3 For cloy'd with woes and trouble fore Surcharg'd my foul doth lie,

My life at death's unchearful door'

Unto the grave draws nigh.

4 Reckon❜d I am with them that pass

Down to the dismal pit,

I am a * man, but weak alas,

And for that name unfit.

5 From life difcharg'd and parted quite

Among the dead to fleep,'

And like the flain in blocdy fight'

That in the grave lie deep.'
Whom thou remembereft no more,
Doft never more regard,

Them from thy hand deliver'd o'er
'Death's hideous house hath barr'd.

6 Thou in the loweft pit profound'
Haft fet me all forlorn,'

Where thickeft darkness hovers round,'

In horrid deeps' to mourn.'

7 Thy wrath, from which no shelter faves,'

Full fore doth prefs on me;

* Heb. A man without manly ftrength.'

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*Thou break'it upon me all thy waves,

* And all thy waves break me.

Thou doft my friends from me eftrange,
And mak'st me odious,

Me to them odious, for they change,'
And I here pent up thus.

9 Through forrow, and affliction great,
Mine eye grows dim and dead,

Lord, all the day I thee intreat,
My hands to thee I fpread.

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10 Wilt thou do wonders on the dead,

Shall the deceas'd arife

And praise thee from their loathsome bed'
With pale and hollow eyes?'

11 Shall they thy loving kindness tell

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On whom the

grave

' hath hold,'

Or they who in perdition dwell,'

Thy faithfulness' unfold?'

12 In darkness can thy mighty hand'

• Or' wondrous acts be known,

Thy juftice in the 'gloomy' land

Of dark' oblivion?

do

13 But I to thee, O Lord, cry, Ere yet my life be spent,'

Each morn, and thee pievent.

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And 'up to thee' my pray'r doth hie,'

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14 Why wilt thou, Lord, my foul forfake,

And hide thy face from me,

15 That am already bruis'd, and † shake With terror fent from thee?

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Bruis'd, and afflicted, and fo'low'

As ready to expire,

*The Hebr. bears both. + Heb. Præ Concuffione.

While I thy terrors undergo

Aftonish'd with thine ire.

16 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow,
Thy threatnings cut me through:
17 All day they round about me go,

Like waves they me purfue.

18 Lover and friend thou haft remov'd,
And fever'd from me far:

They fly me now' whom I have lov'd,
And as in darkness are.

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A Paraphrafe on PSAL. CXIV,

This and the following Pfalm were done by the Author at fifteen years old.

WE

HEN the bleft feed of Terah's faithful fon After long toil their liberty had won, And paft from Pharian fields to Canaan land, Led by the ftrength of the Almighty's hand, Jehovah's wonders were in Ifrael shown, His praise and glory was in Ifrael known. That faw the troubled fea, and fhivering fled, And fought to hide his froth-becurled head Low in the earth; Jordan's clear streams recoil, As a faint hoft that hath receiv'd the foil. The high, huge-bellied mountains fkip like rams Amongst their ewes, the little hills like lambs. Why fled the ocean? And why skipt the mountains ? Why turned Jordan towr'd his cryftal fountains? Shake earth, and at the prefence be aghaft Of him that ever was, and ay fhall laft, That glaffy floods from rugged rocks can crush, And make foft rills from fiery flint-ftones guth.

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