That glorious day exalts the just To full dominion o'er the proud. 6 My Saviour fhall my life reftore, And raise me from my dark abode : My flesh and foul fhall part no more, But dwell forever near my God. PSALM L. 1—6. 1ft Part. Com.Metre. The laft judgment; or, the faints rewarded. HE Lord, the judge, before his throne Bids the whole earth draw nigh; TH The nations near the rifing fun, 2 No more fhall bold blafphemers fay, 3 Thron'd on a cloud, our God fhall come, 4 Heav'n from above his call fhall hear, Attending angels come, 5 And earth and hell fhall know and fear "But gather all my faints," he cries, "And feal'd it with his blood. 6 "Their faith and works bro't forth to light, "Shall make the world confefs "My fentence of reward is right, "And heav'n adore my grace." PSALM L. 2d Part. Common Metre. Ver. 8, 10, 11, 14, 15, 23. HUS faith the Lord, "The fpacious fields, "O'er all the cattle of the hills, 2 "I afk no fheep for facrifice, 3 "Call upon me when trouble's near, 4 "The man that offers humble praise, "And those, that tread my holy ways, "Shall my falvation tafte." PSALM L. 3d Part. Common Metre. 2 3 WH Ver. 1, 5, 8, 16, 21, 22. The judgment of hypocrites. HEN Chrift to judgment fhall defcend, He calls the nations to attend, And hear his awful word. "Not for the want of bullocks flain "Will I the world reprove; "Altars and rites and forms are vain, "Without the fire of love. "And what have hypocrites to do"To bring their facrifice? 4 "They call my ftatutes juft and true, "But deal in theft and lies. "Could you expect to 'fcape my fight, 5 Confider ye, that flight the Lord, PSALM L. Long Metre. 1 THE Lord, the Judge, his churches warns; Let hypocrites attend and fear, Who place their hope in rites and forms, 4 To heav'n they lift their hands unclean, 6 O dreadful hour, when God draws near, PSALM L. Part. Particular Metre. The laft judgment. The Lord, the fov'reign, fends his fummons forth, Calls the fouth nations and awakes the north; From east to west the founding orders spread, Thro' diftant worlds and regions of the dead : No more fhall atheists mock his long delay; His vengeance fleeps no more: Behold the day! 2 Behold! the Judge defcends; his guards are nigh, Tempeft and fire attend him down the sky: Heav'n, earth, & hell draw near; let all things come To hear his juftice, and the finner's doom; But gather firft my faints (the Judge commands) Bring them, ye angels, from their diftant lands. 3 Behold my cov'nant ftands for ever good, Seal'd by th' eternal sacrifice in blood, [Jea, And fign'd with all their names; the Greek, the That paid the ancient worship, or the new; There's no diftinction here; come, fpread their thrones, And near me feat my favʼrites and my fons. I, their almighty Saviour, and their God, Thofe awful truths that finners dread to hear : I doom thee, painted hypocrite, to fire. 5 Not for the want of goats or bullocks slain Mine are the tamer beasts and savage breed, Flocks, herds, & fields, & forefts where they feed. 6 If I were hungry, would I ask thee food? When did I thirft, or drink thy bullock's blood? Can I be flatter'd with thy cringing bows, Thy folemn chatt'rings, and fantastick vows? Are my eyes charm'd thy vestments to behold, Glaring in gems, and gay in woven gold? 7 Unthinking wretch! how could't thou hope to please A God, a Spirit, with fuch toys as these? While, with my grace and statutes on thy tongue, Thou lov'ft deceit, and doft thy brother wrong; In vain to pious forms thy zeal pretends, Thieves and adult'rers are thy chofen friends. 8 Silent I waited with long-fuff'ring love; But didft thou hope that I fhould ne'er reprove? And cherish fuch an impious thought within, That God the righteous would indulge thy fin? Behold my terrors now; my thunders roll, And thy own crimes affright thy guilty foul. 9 Sinners, awake betimes; ye fools, be wise; Awake before this dreadful morning rife; Change your vain thoughts, your crooked works amend; Fly to the Saviour, make the Judge your friend; Left like a lion his laft vengeance tear Your trembling fouls, and no deliv❜rer near. PSALM L. 2d Part. Particular Metre. I THE The last judgment. HE God of glory fends his fummons forth, Calls the fouth nations,and awakes the north; From eaft to weft his fov'reign orders fpread, Thro' diftant worlds, and regions of the dead. The trumpet founds; hell trembles; heav'n rejoices; Lift up your heads, ye faints, with cheerful voices. |