7. I, in the day of my distress, Will call on the thee for aid; For thou wilt grant me free access, And answer what I pray'd. 8. Like thee among the Gods is none, O Lord; nor any works . Of all that other Gods have done Like to thy glorious works. 9. The Nations all whom thou liast made Shall come, and all shall frame To bow them low before thee, Lord, And glorify thy Name. 10. For great thou art, and wonders great By thy strong hand are done ; Thou, in thy everlasting seat, Remainest God alone. 11. Teach me, O Lord, thy way most right; I in thy truth will bide; So shall it never slide, 12. Thee will I praise, O Lord my God, Thee honour and adore With my whole heart, and blaze abroad Thy name for evermore. 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, And violent men are met No fear of thee have set. 15. But thou, Lord, art the God' most mild, Readiest thy grace to shew, Slow to be angry, and art styl'd Most merciful, most true. 16. O, turn to me thy face at length, And me have mercy on; And save thy handmaid's son. 17. Some sign of good to me afford, And let my foes then see, Dost help and comfort me. PSALM LXXXVII. 1. AMONG the holy mountains high Is his foundation fast; 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 store, And all within his care. 3. City of God, most glorious things Of thee abroad are spoke ; 4. I mention Egypt, where proud kings Did our forefathers yoke. Philistia full of scorn ; Lo this man there was born : 5. But twice that praise shall in our ear Be said of Sion last ; This and this man was born in her; High God shall fix her fast. 6. The Lord shall write it in a scroll That ne'er shall be out-worn, When he the nations doth inroll, That this man there was born. 7. Both they who sing, and they who dance, With sacred songs are there ; In thee fresh brooks, and soft streams glance, And all my fountains clear. PSALM LXXXVIII. 1. Lord God, that dost me save and keep, All day to thee I cry; Before thee prostrate lie. With sighs devout ascend ; Thine ear with favour bend. 3. For, cloy'd with woes and trouble sore, Surcharg'd my soul doth lie; Unto the grave draws nigh. Down to the dismal pit; I am a man, but weak alas! And for that name unfit. 5. From life discharg’d and parted quite, Among the dead to sleep; That in the grave lie deep. Bb |