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2 'Tis useless toil our stores to keep,
Early to rise and late to sleep,
Unless thy presence, Lord, be nigh,
And providential care supply.

3 Teach us in all our cares to flee
For guidance and for help to thee:
Thy blessing ask, whate'er we do,
And in thy strength, our work pursue.

4 So we, thy sons, by mercy led,
Through life's dark path shall safely tread;
And in thy blessing, never cease
To find prosperity and peace.

PSALM CXXX. (c. M.)

1 WHEN, rising from the bed of death,
O'erwhelm'd with guilt and fear,
I see my Maker, face to face,
Oh! how shall I appear?

2 If yet, while pardon may be found,
And mercy may be sought,

My heart with inward horror shrinks,
And trembles at the thought,

3 When thou, O Lord, shall stand disclos'd, In majesty severe,

And sit in judgment on my soul,
Oh! how shall I appear?

4 But thou hast told the troubled soul,
That doth her sins lament,
That Jesus suffer'd unto death,
Her suff'rings to prevent.

5 Then why, my soul, should'st thou despair
Full pardon to procure,
Since Christ, the Lord of glory, died
To make that pardon sure?

PSALM CXXXI. (7's.)

1 LORD, for ever at thy side
May my place and portion be:
Strip me of the robe of pride;
Clothe me with humility.

2 Meekly as an infant child,
Weaned from the mother's breast,
By no subtlety beguil'd,
On thy faithfulness I rest.

3 Saints, rejoicing evermore,
In the Lord Jehovah trust;
Him in all his ways adore,
Wise, and wonderful, and just.

PSALM CXXXIII. (s. M.)

1 BLEST are the sons of

peace,

Whose hearts and hopes are one, Whose kind designs, to serve and please, Through all their actions run.

2 Blest is the pious house,

Where zeal and friendship meet,

Their songs of praise, their mingled vows,
Make their communion sweet.

3 Thus on the heavenly hills
The saints are blest above,
Where joy, like morning dew distils,
And all the air is love.

PSALM CXXXVII. (D. L. M.)

1 WHEN Israel sat by Babel's stream,
Their harps were on the willows hung;
Of Zion was their mournful dream,
Sad were their tears, their harps unstrung:
With taunting scorn their haughty foes,
Taught them what fate to slaves belongs
Proud in their pow'r they mock'd their woes,
And ask'd for Zion's sacred songs.

2 For Zion's songs? ah thought abhorr'd!
How, Salem, could they sing of thee;
Or tell the praises of the Lord,
While in their sad captivity?

O Zion! to remember thee,
Shall ever be thy sons' employ ;
Thy woes, their heaviest grief shall be,
Thy happiness, their highest joy.

PSALM CXXXVIII. (L. M.)

1 WITH all my pow'rs, of heart and tongue, I'll praise my Maker in my song; Angels shall hear the notes I raise, Approve the song, and join the praise. 2 I'll sing thy truth and mercy, Lord, I'll sing the wonders of thy word; Not all thy works and names below, So much thy power and glory show. 3 To God I cried when troubles rose; He heard me, and subdu'd my foes; He did my rising fears control,

And strength diffus'd through all my soul.
4 Amidst a thousand snares I stand,
Upheld and guarded by thy hand;
Thy words my fainting soul revive,
And keep my dying faith alive.

5 Grace will complete what grace begins,
To save from sorrows, or from sins;
The work that wisdom undertakes,
Eternal mercy ne'er forsakes.

PSALM CXXXIX. (L. M.)

1 THOU, Lord, by strictest search hast known My rising up and lying down;

My secret thoughts are known to thee,
Known long before conceiv'd by me.

2 Surrounded by thy power I stand,
On every side I find thy hand :
O skill, for human reach too high!
Too dazzling bright for mortal eye!
3 O, could I so perfidious be,

To think of once deserting thee?
Where, Lord, could I thy influence shun,
Or, whither from thy presence run?

4 If I the morning's wings could gain,
And fly beyond the western main,
Thy swifter hand would first arrive,
And there arrest thy fugitive.

5 Or should I try to shun thy sight,
Beneath the sable wings of night;
One glance from thee, one piercing ray,
Would kindle darkness into day.

6 Search, try, O God, my thoughts and heart, If mischief lurks in any part;

Correct me where I go astray,
And guide me in thy perfect way.

PSALM CXLIV. (c. м.)

1 FOR ever blessed be the Lord,
My Saviour and my shield;
He sends his Spirit, with his word,
To arm me for the field.

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