And earth, with her ten thousand tongues,
Shall fill thy courts with founding praise.
6 Wide as the world is thy command,
Vast as eternity thy love;
Firm as a rock thy truth must stand,
When rolling years shall cease to move.
PSALM CI. Long Metre.
The magistrate's psalm.
ERCY and judgment are my fong! And fince they both to thee belong, My gracious God, my righteous King, To thee my fongs and vows 1'll bring.
2 If I am rais'd to bear the sword,
I'll take my counsels from thy word;
Thy justice and thy heav'nly grace
Shall be the pattern of my ways.
3 Let wisdom all my actions guide,
And let my God with me reside ;
No wicked thing shall dwell with me,
Which may provoke thy jealoufy.
4 No fons of flander, rage and strife
Shall be companions of my life;
The haughty look, the heart of pride,
Within my doors shall ne'er abide.
5 [I'll search the land, and raise the just
To posts of honour, wealth and trust;
The men that work thy holy will,
Shall be my friends and fav'rites still.]
6 In vain shall finners hope to rife
By flatt'ring or malicious lies ;
And while the innocent I guard,
The bold offender shan't be fpar'd.
7 The impious crew, that factious band, Shall hide their heads, or quit the land; And all that break the public rest, Where I have pow'r, shall be fuppreft.
A pfalm for a master of a family.
F justice and of grace I fing,
And pay my God my vows;
Thy grace and justice, heav'nly King,
Teach me to rule my house.
2 Now to my tent, O God, repair,
And make thy servant wife;
I'll fuffer nothing near me there
That shall offend thine eyes.
3 The man that doth his neighbour wrong,
By falfehood or by force,
The scornful eye, the sland'rous tongue,
I'll thrust them from my doors.
4 I'll feek the faithful and the just,
And will their help enjoy;
These are the friends that I shall trust,
The servants I'll employ.
5 The wretch that deals in fly deceit,
I'll not endure a night:
The liar's tongue I'll ever hate,
And banish from my fight.
6 I'll purge my family around,
And make the wicked flee ;
So shall my house be ever found
A dwelling fit for thee.
PSALM CII. 1st Part. Common Metre. Ver. 1-13, 20, 21. A prayer of the afflicted.
EAR me, O God, nor hide thy face,
But anfwer, lest I die;
Hast thou not built a throne of grace,
To hear when finners cry?
2 My days are wasted like the smoke Dissolving in the air;
My ftrength is dry'd, my heart is broke, And finking in despair.
3 My fpirits flag, like with'ring grafs
Burnt with exceffive heat;
In fecret groans my minutes pass,
And I forget to eat.
4 As on fome lonely building's top,
The sparrow tells her moan,
Far from the tents of joy and hope,
I fit and grieve alone.
5 My foul is like a wilderness,
Where beasts of midnight howl;
There the fad raven finds her place,
And there the screaming owl.
6 Dark dismal thoughts and boding fears
Dwell in my troubled breast;
While sharp reproaches wound my ears,
Nor give my spirit rest.
7 My cup is mingled with my woes,
And tears are my repast;
My daily bread like ashes grows
Unpleasant to my taste.
8 Senfe can afford no real joy
To fouls that feel thy frown;
Lord, 'twas thy hand advanc'd me high,
Thy hand hath cast me down.
9 My locks like wither'd leaves appear ;
And life's declining light
Grows faint, as ev'ning shadows are,
That vanish into night.
10 But thou forever art the fame,
O my eternal God!
Ages to come shall know thy name,
And fpread thy works abroad.
II Thou wilt arife, and shew thy face,
Nor will my Lord delay
Beyond th' appointed hour of grace,
That long expected day.
12 He hears his faints, he knows their cry, And by mysterious ways
Redeems the pris'ners doom'd to die, And fills their tongues with praife. PSALM CII. 2d Part. Common Metre. Ver. 13-21. Prayer beard, and Zion restored.
ET Zion and her fons rejoice!
Behold the promis'd hour !
Her God hath heard her mourning voice,
And comes t' exalt his pow'r.
2 Her dust and ruins that remain,
Are precious in our eyes;
Those ruins shall be built again,
And all that dust shall rife.
3 The Lord will raise Jerufalem,
And stand in glory there;
Nations shall bow before his name,
And kings attend with fear.
4 He fits a Sov'reign on his throne,
With pity in his eyes :
He hears the dying pris'ner's groan,
And fees their fighs arife.
5 He frees the souls condemn'd to death;
And when his faints complain,
It shan't be faid "that praying breath
" Was ever spent in vain."
6 This shall be known when we are dead,
And left on long record,
That ages yet unborn may read,
And trust, and praise the Lord.
PSALM CII. 23-28. Long Metre.
Man's mortality and Christ's eternity; or, faints
die, but Christ and the church live.
Tis the Lord our Saviour's hand
Weakens our strength amidst the race;
Disease and death, at his command,
Arrest us, and cut short our days.
2 Spare us, O Lord, aloud we pray,
Nor let our fun go down at noon;
Thy years are one eternal day,
And must thy children die so soon?
3 Yet in the midst of death and grief
This thought our forrow shall afsuage;
"Our Father and our Saviour live;
"Christ is the fame through ev'ry age."
4 'Twas he this earth's foundation laid;
Heav'n is the building of his hand;
This earth grows old, these heav'ns shall fade,
And all be chang'd at his command.
5 The starry curtains of the sky,
Like garments, shall be laid atide;
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