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7 I therefore come-come to fulfil

The oracles thy books impart; 8 'Tis my delight to do thy will; Thy law is written in my heart.

In full assemblies I have told

Thy truth and righteousness at large ;
Nor did, thou know'sl, my lips withhold

From utt’ring what thou gav'st in charge : 10 Nor kept within my breast confin'd

Thy faithfulness and saving grace ;
But preach'd thy love, for all design'd,

That all might that, and truth, embrace. 11 Then let those mercics I declar'd

To others, Lord, extend to me;
Thy loving-kindness my reward,

Thy truth my safe protection be. 12 For I with troubles am distress'd,

Too numberless for me to bear ;
Nor less with loads of guilt oppress'd,

That plunge and sink me to despair..
As soon, alas ! may I recount

The hairs of this afflicted head;
My vanquish'd courage they surmount,
And fill my drooping soul with dread.

13 But, Lord, to my relief draw near,

For never was more pressing need;
In my deliv'rance, Lord, appear,

And add to that deliv'rance speed. 14 Confusion on thcir heads return,

Who to destroy my soul combine ;
Let them, defeated, blush and mourn,

Ensar'd in their own vile desig?. 15 Their doom let desolation be,

With shame their malice be repaid,
Who mock'd my confidence in thee,

And sport of my alhiction made.
16 While those who humbly seek thy face

To joyful triumphs shall be rais'd ;
And all who prize thy saving grace,

With me resound, the Lord be prais'd.

17 Thus, wretched though I am and poor,

Of me th’ Almighty Lord takes care :
Thou God, who only canst restore,
To my relief with speed repair.


Relieves the poor distress'd !
When troubles compass him around,

The Lord shall give him rest. 2 The Lord his life, with blessings crown'd,.

In safety shall prolong;
And disappoint the will of those

That seek to do him wrong. 3 If he in languishing estate,

Oppress'd with sickness lie ;
The Lord will easy make his bed,

And inward strength supply. 4 Secure of this, to thee, my God,

I thus my pray'r address'd ;
“ Lord, for thy mercy, heal my soul,

“ Though I have much transgress’d." 5. My cruel foes, with sland'rous words,

Attempt to wound my fame ; “ When shall he die," say they," and men

“ Forget his very name ?"
6 Suppose they forinal visits make,

'Tis all but empty show ;
They gather mischief in their hearts,

And vent it wiiere they go. 7, 8 "'ith private whispers, such as these,

To hurt me they devise :
" A sore disease afflicts him now ;

“ He's fall'n no more to rise." 9 My own familiar bosom-friend,

On whom I most rely’d,
Has me, whose daily guest he was,

With open scorn defy’d.
10 But thou n.y sad and wretched state,

In mercy, Lord, regard ;
And raise me up, that all their crimes

May meet their just reward. 11 By this I know thy gracious ear

Is open, when I call;
Because thou sufier'st not my foes

To triumph in my fall.


12 Thy tender care secures my life

From danger and disgrace ;
And thou vouchsaf'st to set me still

Before thy glorious face.
13 Let therefore Israel's Lord and God

From age to age be bless'd ;
And all the people's glad applause
With loud Amens express'd.

1 S pants the hart for cooling streams,

When heated in the chase ;
So longs my soul, O God, for thee,

And thy refreshing grace.
2 For thee, my God, the living God,

My thirsty soul doth pine ;
O! when shall I behold thy face,

Thou Majesty Divine ?
3 Tears are my constant food, while thus

Insulting foes upbraid ;
“ Deluded wretch! where's now thy God?

“ And where his promis'd aid ?”
4 I sigh, whene'er my musing thoughts

Those happy days present,
When I, with troops of pious friends,

Thy temple did frequent.
When I advanc'd with songs of praise,

My solemn vows to pay,
And led the joyful sacred throng,

That kept the festal day.
5 Why restless, why cast down my soul ?

Trust God; who will employ
His aid for thee, and change these sighs

To thankful hymns of jos:
6 My soul's cast down, O God! but thinks

On thee and Sion still ;
From Jordan's bank, fronı Hermon's heights,

And Mizar's humbler hill. 7 One trouble calls another on,

And gath'ring o'er my head,
Fall spouting down, till round my soul

A roaring sea is spread.
8 But when thy presence, Lord of life,

Has once dispell’d this storm,
To thee I'll midnight anthems sing,

And all my vows perform.


9 God of my strength, how long shall I,

Like one forgotten, mourn ;
Forlorn, forsaken, and expos'd

To my oppressor's scorn ?
10 My heart is pierc'd, as with a sword,

While thus my foes upbraid :
“ Vain boaster, where is now thy God?

“ And where his promis'd aid ?"
11 Why restless, why cast down, my soul ?

Hope still; and thou shalt sing
The praise of him who is thy God,
Thy health's eternal spring.

PSALM XLIII. 1 (UST Judge of heav'n, against my foes

Do thou assert my injur'd right;
O set me free, my God, from those

Th in deceit and wrong delight. 2 Since thou art still my only stay,

Why leav'st thou me in deep distress? Why go I mourning all the day,

Whilst me ingulting foes oppress? 3 Let me with light and truth be blest;

Be these my guides to lead the way,
Till on thy holy hill I rest,

And in thy sacred temple pray. 4 Then will I there fresh altars raise

To God, who is my only joy ;
And well-tun'd harps, with songs of praise,

Shall all my grateful hours employ. 5 Why then cast down, my soul ? and why

So much oppress'd with anxious care?
On God, thy God, for aid rely,
Who will thy ruin'd state repair.



O LORD, our fathers oft have told

Thy wonders in their days perform'd,

And elder times than theirs : 2 How thou, to plant them here, didst drive

The heathen from this land,
Dispeopled by repeated strokes

Of thy avenging hand.

3 For not their courage, nor their sword,

To them possession gave ;
Nor strength that from unequal force

Their fainting troops could save :
But thy right hand, and pow'rful arm,

Whosc succour they implor'd ;
Thy presence with the chosen race,

Who thy great Name ador'd.
4. As thee their God our fathers own'd,

Thou art our sov'reign King ;
O ! therefore, as thou didst to them,

To us deliv'rance bring. 5 Through thy victorious Name, our arms

The proudest foes shall quell ;
And crush them with repeated strokes,

As oft as they rebel.
6 I'll neither trust my bow nor sword,

When I in fight engage ; 7 But thee, who hast our foes subdu'd,

And sham'd their spiteful rage. 8 To thee the triumph we ascribe,

From whom the conquest came:
In God we will rejoice all day,
And ever bless his Name.

9 But thou hast cast us off; and now

Most shamefully we yield;
For thou no more vouchsaf'st to lead

Our armies to the field :
10 Since when, to ev'ry upstart foe

We turn our backs in fight;
And with our spoil their malice feast,

Who bear us ancient spite. 11 To slaughter doom'd, we fall, like sheep,

Into their butch'ring hands;
Or (what's more wretched yet) survive,

Dispers'd through heathen lands. 12 Thy people thou hast sold for slaves,

And set their price so low,
That not thy treasure, by the sale,

But their disgrace, may grow. 13, 14 Reproach'd by all the nations round,

The heathen's by-word grown;
Whose scorn of us is both in speech

And mocking gestures, shown.

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