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19 For great thou art, and wonders great

By thy ftrong hand are done,

Thou in thy everlasting feat
Remaineft God alone.

11 Teach me, O Lord, thy way mof right,

I in thy truth will bide,

To fear thy name my heart unite,

So fball it never flide.

12 Thee will I praise, O Lord my God,

Thee honor and adore

With my whole heart, and blaze abroad

Thy name for evermore.

13 For great thy mercy is tow'rd me,

And thou haft free'd my foul,

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Ev'n from the loweft Hell fet free,

From deepest darkness foul.

14 O God, the proud against me rise,

And violent men are met

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To feek my life, and in their eyes

No fear of thee have fet,

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

Readieft thy grace to shew,

Slow to be angry, and art stil'd

Moft merciful, most 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.

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17 Some

17 Some fign of good to me afford,

And let my foes then fee,

And be afham'd, because thou, Lord,

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Doft help and comfort me.

PSAL. LXXXVII.

AMONG 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 flore,
And all within his care.

3 City of God, moft glorious things

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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 Ethiop's utmost ends,

Lo this man there was born :

5 But twice that praise fhall in our ear

Be faid of Sion laft,

This and this man was born in her,

High God shall 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.

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7 Both

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

In thee fresh brooks, and foft freams glance,
And all my fountains clear.

'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 proftrate lie.

2 Into thy prefence let my prayer

With fighs devout afcend,

And to my cries, that ceafelefs are,

Thine ear with favor bend.

3 For cloy'd with woes and trouble store 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 pafs

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 fleep,

And like the flain in bloody fight

That in the grave lie deep.

* Heb. A man without manly frength.

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Them from thy hand deliver'd o'er Death's hideous houfe hath barr'd. 6 Thou in the lowest pit profound

Haft fet me all forlorn,

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Where thickeft darkness hovers round,

In horrid deeps to mourn.

7 Thy wrath, from which no shelter faves, Full fore doth prefs on me;

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* Thou break'st upon me all thy ways,

* And all thy waves break me.

8 Thou doft my friends from me estrange,

And mak'ft me odious,

Me to them odious, for they change,

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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 spread.

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10 Wilt thou do wonders on the dead,

Shall the deceas'd arise

And praise thee from their loathfome, bed
With pale and hollow eyes?

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11 Shall they thy loving-kindness tell
On whom the grave bath bold,
Or they who in perdition dwell,
Thy faithfulness unfold ?

*The Hebr. bears both.

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12 In

12 In darkness can thy mighty hand

Or wondrous acts be known,

Thy justice in the gloomy land

Of dark oblivion ?

13 But I to thee, O Lord, do cry,

Ere yet my life be spent,

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And up to thee my prayer doth hie,

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Each morn, and thee prevent.

14 Why wilt thou, Lord, my foul forfake,

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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.

* Heb. Pra Concuffione.

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A Paraphrase

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