To thee alone, my King, my God, Will I for help repair. 2. Thou in the morn my voice shalt hear, And with the dawning day, To thee devoutly I'll look up, To thee devoutly pray. With shouts their joy proclaim; And all that love thy name. 4. To righteous men, the righteous Lord, His blessings will extend; As with a shield defend. PSA L M 8. 1. O Thou to whom all creatures bow, Thro' all the world how great art thou, How glorious is thy name. 2. When heav'n, thy beauteous work on Employs my wand'ring sight, [high, The The moon, that nightly rules the sky With stars of feebler light : 3. What's man, say I, that, Lord, thou lov'st To keep him in thy mind ? To him so wond'rous kind. To thy celestial train, Ordain'd with dignity and state, O'er all thy works to reign. 5. They jointly own his pow'rful sway, The beasts that prey or graze ; The bird that wings its airy way, The fish that cuts the seas. Within this earthly frame; How glorious is thy name. PSALM 8. 8. O. V. "O God our Lord; how wonderful Are thy works ev'ry where ; Thy Thy fame surmounts in dignity, The highest heav'ns that are. The works of thine own hand, In order as they stand. Thou wilt confound thy foes; Thy graces they disclose. Tak'st such abundant care ; To visit doft not spare. PSALM 9. 1. O celebrate , I heart : To all the list’ning world, thy works, Thy wond'rous works declare. 2. The thoughts of them shall to my soul, Exalted pleasure bring: Whilst Whilst to thy name, O thou most high, Triumphant praise I'll fing. 3. All those who have his goodness prov’d, Will in his truth confide; mercy ne'er forfook the man, From Sion his abode : Confess no other God. Whose mercy 1. Ps A L M 15 Whom thou so well doft love; And dwell with thee above. 2. 'Tis he whose ev'ry thought and deed, By rules of virtue moves ; The thing his heart disproves. Nor Nor hearken to a false report, Nor malice whisper'd round. Hath ever firmly stood; Yet makes his promile good. Hath happiness ensur'd, When earth's foundation shakes shall stand, By Providence secur'd. MWhole precepts give me light; Whose In sorrow's dismal night. To his all-feeing eye; Because he ftill is nigh. My |