And watch our most unguarded hours
Against surprising harm.
4 Ifrael, rejoice, and rest secure,
Thy keeper is the Lord;
His wakeful eyes employ his pow'r
For thine eternal guard.
5 Nor scorching fun, nor fickly moon,
Shall have his leave to smite;
He shields thy head from burning noon,
From blasting damps at night.
6 He guards thy foul, he keeps thy breath,
Where thickest dangers come;
Go and return, secure from death,
'Till God commands thee home.
Particular Metre.
God our preferver.
TPWARD I lift mine eyes,
From God is all my aid;
The God that built the skies,
And earth and nature made :
God is the tow'r
To which I fly;
His grace is nigh
In ev'ry hour.
2 My feet shall never flide,
And fall in fatal snares,
Since God, my guard and guide,
Defends me from my fears.
Those wakeful eyes,
Which never fleep,
Shall Israel keep,
When dangers rife.
3 No burning heats by day,
Nor blasts of ev'ning air,
Shall take my health away,
If God be with me there :
Thou art my fun,
And thou my shade,
To guard my head
By night or noon.
4 Hast thou not giv'n thy word,
To fave my foul from death?
And I can trust my Lord
To keep my mortal breath:
I'll go and come,
Nor fear to die,
'Till from on high
Thou call me home.
PSALM CXXII. Common Metre.
Going to church.
OW did my heart rejoice to hear
H My friends devoutly say,
"In Zion let us all appear,
"And keep the folemn day !"
2 I love her gates, I love the road,
The church, adorn'd with grace,
Stands like a palace, built for God,
To shew his milder face.
3 Up to her courts, with joys unknown,
The holy tribes repair;
The Son of David holds his throne,
And fits in judgment there.
4 He hears our praises and complaints!
And while his awful voice
Divides the sinners from the faints,
We tremble and rejoice.
5 Peace be within this facred place,
And joy a constant guest !
With holy gifts and heav'nly grace,
Be her attendants blest !
6 My foul shall pray for Zion still,
While life or breath remains; There my best friends, my kindred dwell, There God my Saviour reigns.
OW pleas'd and blest was I,
To hear the people cry,
"Come, let us feek our God to-day;"
Yes, with a cheerful zeal,
We haste to Zion's hill,
And there our vows and honours pay.
Zion, thrice happy place,
Adorn'd with wond'rous grace,
And walls of strength embrace thee round; In thee our tribes appear,
To pray and praise, and hear
The facred gospel's joyful found.
3 There David's greater Son
Has fix'd his royal throne;
He fits for grace and judgment there;.
He bids the faint be glad,
He makes the finner fad,
And humble fouls rejoice with fear.
4 May peace attend thy gate,
And joy within thee wait,
To bless the foul of ev'ry guest;
The man that feeks thy peace,
And wishes thine increase,
A thousand blessings on him rest !
My tongue repeats her vows,
"Peace to this facred house!"
For here my friends and kindred dwell;
And fince my glorious God
Makes thee his blest abode,
My foul shall ever love thee well.
Repeat the 4th stanza if necessary.
Pleading with fubmiffion.
THOU, whose grace and justice reign
Enthron'd above the skies,
To thee our hearts would tell their pain,
To thee we lift our eyes.
2 As servants watch their master's hand,
And fear the angry stroke !
Or maids before their mistress stand,
And wait a peaceful look:
3 So for our fins we justly feel
Thy difcipline, O God;
Yet wait the gracious moment still,
'Till thou remove thy rod.
4 Those who in wealth and pleasure live,
Our daily groans deride,
And thy delays of mercy give
Fresh courage to their pride.
5 Our foes infult us, but our hope
In thy compassion lies;
This thought shall bear our spirits up,
That God will not despise.
PSALM CXXIV. Long Metre.
▲ Song for public deliverance.
AD not the Lord, may Ifrael fay,
Had not the Lord maintain'd our fide,
When men, to make our lives a prey,
Rose like the swelling of the tide;
2 The swelling tide had stopt our breath,
So fiercely did the waters roll,
We had been swallow'd deep in death;
Proud waters had o'erwhelm'd our foul.
3 We leap for joy, we shout and fing,
Who just efcap'd the fatal stroke;
So flies the bird, with cheerful wing,
When once the fowler's fnare is broke.
4 For ever blessed be the Lord,
Who broke the fowler's cursed snare,
Who fav'd us from the murd'ring sword,
And made our lives and fouls his care.
5 Our help is in Jehovah's name,
Who form'd the earth and built the skies; He, that upholds that wond'rous frame, Guards his own church with watchful eyes.
Common Metre.
The faint's trial and safety.
NSHAKEN as the facred hill,
And firm as mountains be,
Firm as a rock the foul shall rest,
That leans, O Lord, on thee.
2 Not walls, nor hills, could guard so well.
Old Salem's happy ground,
As those eternal arms of love
That ev'ry faint furround.
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