4 The rich have statues well adorn'd with gold; The poor, content with gods of coarfer mould, With tools of iron carve the fenfeless stock, Lopt from a tree, or broken from a rock : People and priests drive on the folemn trade, And truft the gods that faws and hammers måde.]
5 Be heav'n and earth amaz'd! 'Tis hard to fay,
Which is more stupid, or their gods, or they.
O Ifr'el, trust the Lord! he hears and fees,
He knows thy forrows, and restores thy peace:
His worship does a thoufand comforts yield,
He is thy help, and he thy heav'nly shield.
6 In God we trust; our impious foes in vain
Attempt our ruin, and oppofe his reign;
Had they prevail'd, darkness had clos'd our days,
And death and filence had forbid his praise:
But we are sav'd, and live : Let fongs arife,
And Zion bless the God that built the skies.
PSALM CXVI. 1st Part. Com. Metre.
Recovery from fickness.
LOVE the Lord: he heard my cries,
And pity'd every groan;
Long as I live, when troubles rife
I'll haften to his throne.
I love the Lord: he bow'd his ear,
And chas'd my griefs away:
O let my heart no more defpair,
While I have breath to pray !
3 My flesh declin'd, my spirits fell,
And I drew near the dead;
While inward pangs, and fears of hell,
Perplex'd my wakeful head.
4 "My God, I cry'd, thy servant save, "Thou ever good and juft;
" Thy pow'r can rescue from the grave, "Thy pow'r is all my trust."
5 The Lord beheld me fore distrest,
He bid my pains remove:
Return, my foul, to God, thy reft,
For thou hast known his love.
6 My God hath fav'd my foul from death,
And dry'd my falling tears:
Now to his praise I'll spend my breath,
And my remaining years.
PSALM CXVI. 2d Part. Com. Metre.
Ver. 12, &c. Vows, made in trouble, paid in the
church; or, public thanks for private deliverance.
I render to my God
For all his kindness shown?
My feet shall visit thine abode,
My fongs address thy throne.
2 Among the faints that fill thy house
My off'rings shall be paid;
There shall my zeal perform the vows
My foul in anguish made.
3 How much is mercy thy delight,
Thou ever-blessed God!
How dear thy fervants in thy fight! How precious is their blood! 4 How happy all thy fervants are ! How great thy grace to me! My life, which thou hast made thy care, Lord, I devote to thee.
5 Now I am thine, for ever thine,
Nor fhall my purpose move;
Thy hand hath loos'd my bands of pain,
And bound me with thy love.
6 Here in thy courts I leave my vow, And thy rich grace record;
Witness, ye faints, who hear me now,
If I forfake the Lord.
PSALM CXVII. Common Metre.
Praise to God from all nations.
ALL ye nations, praise the Lord,
Each with a diff'rent tongue :
In ev'ry language learn his word,
And let his name be fung.
2 His mercy reigns through ev'ry land;
Proclaim his grace abroad;
For ever firm his truth shall stand;
Praise ye the faithful God.
PSALM CXVII. Long Metre.
I ROM all that dwell below the skies,
Let the Creator's praise arise ;
Let the Redeemer's name be fung
Through ev'ry land, by ev'ry tongue.
2 Eternal are thy mercies, Lord;
Eternal truth attends thy word :
Thy praise shall found from shore to shore,
'Till funs shall rise and fet no more.
PSALM CXVII. Short Metre.
HY name, Almighty Lord,
Shall found through distant lands;
Great is thy grace, and fure thy word,
Thy truth for ever stands.
Far be thine honour fpread,
And long thy praise endure, 'Till morning light and ev'ning shade Shall be exchang'd no more.
PSALM CXVIII. 1st Part. Com. Met. Ver.6-15. Deliverance from a tumult.
HE Lord appears my helper now,
Nor is my faith afraid
Of what the fons of earth can do,
Since heav'n affords me aid.
2 'Tis fafer, Lord, to hope in thee,
And have my God my friend,
Than trust in men of high degree,
And on their truth depend.
3 Like bees my foes beset me round;
A large and angry swarm!
But I shall all their rage confound
By thine almighty arm.
4 'Tis through the Lord my heart is fstrong,
In him my lips rejoice;
While his falvation is my fong,
How cheerful is my voice!
5 Like angry bees they gird me round;
When God appears, they fly :
So burning thorns, with crackling found,
Make a fierce blaze and die.
6 Joy to the saints and peace belongs;
The Lord protects their ways;
Let Isr'el tune immortal songs
To his almighty grace.
PSALM CXVIII. 2d Part. Com. Metre.
Public praise for deliverance from death.
TORD, thou hast head thy fervant cry.
And rescu'd from the grave; Now shall he live; (and none can die, If God refolve to fave.)
2 Thy praise, more constant than before, Shall fill his daily breath;
Thy hand, that hath chastis'd him fore,
Defends him still from death.
3 Open the gates of Zion now,
For we shall worship there;
The house where all the righteous go,
Thy mercy to declare.
4 Amongst th' assemblies of thy faints
Our thankful voice we raise :
There we have told thee our complaints,
And there we speak thy praife.
PSALM CXVIII. 3d Part. Com. Metre.
Ver. 22, 23. Chrift the foundation of his church.
EHOLD the fure foundation-stone
Which God in Zion lays,
To build our heav'nly hopes upon,
And his eternal praife.
2 Chofen of God, to sinners dear,
And faints adore the name ;
They truft their whole falvation here,
Nor shall they suffer shame.
3 The foolish builders, scribe and priest,
Reject it with difdain;
Yet on this Rock, the church shall rest,
And envy rage in vain.
4 What though the gates of hell withstood,
Yet must this building rise :
'Tis thine own work, Almighty God,
And wond'rous in our eyes,
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