Thy dreadful wrath exceeds our thoughts, And burns beyond our fear.

2 Thine anger turns our frame to duft:
By one offence to thee,

Adam, with all his fons, have lost
Their immortality,

3 Life, like a vain amusement, flies,
A fable or a song;

By fwift degrees our nature dies,
Nor can our joys be long.

4 'Tis but a few whofe days amount
To threescore years and ten;
And all beyond that fhort account
Is. forrow, toil, and pain.

s [Our vitals, with laborious Atrife,
Bear up the crazy load,

And drag thofe poor remains of life.
Along the tirefome road.]

6 Almighty God, reveal thy love,
And not thy wrath alone;
O let our fweet experience prove
The mercies of thy throne.

7 Our fouls would learn the heav'nly art
T'improve the hours we have,
That we may act the wifer part,
And live beyond the grave.

PSALM XC. 3d Part. Com. Metre.
Ver. 13, &c. Breathing after Heaven.

RETURN, O God of love, return;

Earth is a tiresome place; How long fhall we thy children mourn Our abfence from thy face?

2 Let Heav'n fucceed our painful years,
Let fin and forrow cease ;
And in proportion to our tears,
So make our joys increase.

3 Thy wonders to thy fervants fhow,
Make thine own work complete ;
Then fhall our fouls thy glory know,
And own thy love is great.

4 Then fhall we fhine before thy throne In all thy beauty, Lord;

I

And the poor fervice we have done
Meet a divine reward.

PSALM XC. Short Metre.

Ver. 5, 10, 12. The frailty and fhortness of life.

ORD, what a feeble piece
Is this our mortal frame ?

Our life, how poor a trifle 'tis,
That fcarce deferves the name !

2 Alas! the brittle clay

3

4

That built our body first!
And ev'ry month and ev'ry day

'Tis mould'ring back to duft.

Our moments fly apace.
Nor will our minutes stay;
Juft like a flood our hafty days
Are fweeping us away.

Well, if our days must fly,

We'll keep their end in fight;

We'll spend them all in wifdom's way,
And let them fpeed their flight.

5

They'll waft us fooner o'er
This life's tempestuous fea :

Soon we fhall reach the peaceful fhore
Of bleft eternity.

PSALM XCI. ver. 1-7. Long Metre.
Safety in public difeafes and dangers.

H

I E that hath made his refuge, God, Shall find a moft fecure abode ; Shall walk all day beneath his shade, And there at night shall reft his head. 2 Then will I fay, "My God, thy pow'r "Shall be my fortrefs and my tow'r "I, that am form'd of feeble duft, "Make thine almighty arm my trust.' 3 Thrice happy man! thy Maker's care Shall keep thee from the fowler's fnare Satan, the fowler, who betrays Unguarded fouls a thousand ways. 4 Juft as a hen protects her brood (From birds of prey that feek their blood) Under her feathers, fo the Lord Makes his own arm his people's guard. 5 If burning beams of noon confpire To dart a peftilential fire,

God is their life, his wings are spread To fhield them with a healthful thade. 6 If vapours, with malignant breath, 1 Rife thick, and fcatter midnight death, Ifrael is fafe: The poifon'd air Grows pure, if Ifrael's God be there.

PAUSE.

7 What though a thoufand at thy fide, At thy right hand ten thousand dy'd?

Thy God his chofen people faves,
Amongst the dead, amidst the graves.
8 So when he fent his angel down
To make his wrath in Egypt known,
And flew their fons, his careful eye
Paft all the doors of Jacob by.

9 But if the fire, or plague, or fword,
Receive commiffion from the Lord,
To ftrike his faints among the reft,
Their very pains and deaths are bleft.
10 The fword, the peftilence, or fire,
Shall but fulfil their best desire ;
From fins and forrows fet them free,
And bring thy children, Lord, to thee.

PSALM XCI. 9-16. Com. Metre. Protection from death, guard of angels, victory and deliverance.

E fons of men, a feeble race,

Y Expos'd to ev'ry fnare,

Come, make the Lord your dwelling place,
And try, and trust his care.

2 No ill fhall enter where you dwell }
Or if the plague come nigh,
And fweep the wicked down to hell,
"Twill taife his faints on high.

3 He'll give his angels charge to keep
Your feet in all their ways:

To watch your pillow while you sleep,
And guard your happy days.

4 Their hands fhall bear you, left you fall And dafh against the stones;

Are they not fervants at his call,
And fent t' attend his fons ?
5 Adders and lions ye fhall tread;
The tempter's wiles defeat ;
He that hath broke the ferpent's head
Puts him beneath your feet.

6" Because on me they fet their love,.
"I'll fave them (faith the Lord)-
"I'll bear their joyful fouls above
"Destruction, and the fword.

7 "My grace

fhall answer when they call

"In trouble I'll be nigh;

"My pow'r fhall help them when they fall, "And raise them when they die.

8 "Those that on earth my name have known "I'll honour them in heav'n : "There my falvation fhall be shown, "And endless life be giv'n."

PSALM XCII. ft Part. Long Metre.

S

A Pfalm for the Lord'seday.

WEET is the work, my God, my King, To praise thy name, give thanks and fing, To fhew thy love by morning-light, And talk of all thy truth at night. 2 Sweet is the day of facred rest, No mortal care fhall feize my breast; O may my heart in tune be found, Like David's harp of folemn found! 3 My heart fhall triumph in my Lord, And blefs his works, and bless his word: Thy works of grace, how bright they fhine! How deep thy councils! how divine!