3 While tyrants are a smarting scourge,
To drive them near to God,
Divine compaffion does allay
The fury of the rod.
4 Deal gently, Lord, with fouls fincere,
And lead them fafely on
To the bright gates of paradise,
Where Chrift their Lord is gone.
5 But if we trace those crooked ways
That the old ferpent drew,
The wrath that drove him first to hell
Shall smite his follow'rs too.
PSALM CXXV. Short Metre.
The faint's trial and safety; or, moderated af
IRM and unmov'd are they
That reft their fouls on God;
Firm as the mount where David dwelt,
Or where the ark abode.
As mountains stood to guard
The city's sacred ground,
So God, and his almighty love,
Embrace his faints around.
What though the Father's rod
Drop a chastising stroke,
Yet, lest it wound their fouls too deep,
Its fury shall be broke.
Deal gently, Lord, with those
Whose faith and pious fear,
Whose hope and love, and ev'ry grace,
Proclaim their hearts fincere.
Nor shall the tyrant's rage
Too long oppress the faint;
The God of Ifrael will fupport
His children, lest they faint.
But if our flavish fear
Will choose the road to hell,
We must expect our portion there,
Where bolder finners dwell.
PSALM CXXVI. Long Metre.
Surprising deliverance.
WHEN God reftor'd our captive state,
Joy was our fong, and grace our theme;
The grace beyond our hopes fo great,
That joy appear'd a painted dream.
2 The fcoffer owns thy hand, and pays
Unwilling honours to thy name;
While we with pleafure shout thy praise,
With cheerful notes thy love proclaim..
3 When we review our dismal fears,
'Twas hard to think they'd vanish so;
With God we left our flowing tears,
He makes our joys like rivers flow.
4 The man that in his furrow'd field,
His scatter'd feed with fadness leaves,
Will shout to fee the harvest yield
A welcome load of joyful fheaves.
PSALM CXXVI. Common Metre.
The joy of a remarkable conversion; or, melan-
WHEN God reveal'd his gracious name,
And chang'd my mournful state,
My rapture seem'd a pleasing dream,
The grace appear'd so great.
2 The world beheld the glorious change,
And did thy hand confefs ;
My tongue broke out in unknown ftrains, And fung furprising grace.
"Great is the work," my neighbours cry'd,
And own'd thy pow'r divine ;
"Great is the work," my heart reply'd,
"And be the glory thine."
4 The Lord can clear the darkest skies,
Can give us day for night;
Make drops of facred forrow rife
To rivers of delight.
5 Let those that fow in sadness wait
Till the fair harvest come,
They shall confess their sheaves are great,
And fhout the blessings home.
6 Though feed lie bury'd long in dust,
It shan't deceive their hope !
The precious grain can ne'er be loft,
For grace insures the crop.
PSALM CXXVII. Long Metre. The blefing of God on the business and comforts
F God fucceed not, all the cost
And pains to build the house are loft;
If God the city will not keep,
The watchful guards as well may fleep.
2 What if you rise before the fun,
And work and toil when day is done,
Careful and sparing eat your bread,
To shun that poverty you dread;
3 'Tis all in vain, 'till God hath bleft;
He can make rich, yet give us rest;
Children and friends are bleffings too,
If God our fov'reign make them fo.
4 Happy the man to whom he sends Obedient children, faithful friends! How sweet our daily comforts prove, When they are season'd with his love !
PSALM CXXVII. Common Metre.
F God to build the house deny,
The builders work in vain;
And towns, without his wakeful eye,
An uselefs watch maintain.
2 Before the morning beams arife,
Your painful work renew,
And, till the stars afcend the skies,
Your tiresome toil purfue,
3 Short be your fleep, and coarse your fare,
In vain, till God has blest;
But if his smiles attend your eare,
You shall have food and reft.
4 Nor children, relatives, nor friends,
Shall real bleffings prove,
Nor all the earthly joys he sends,
If fent without his love.
PSALM CXXVIII.
HAPPY man, whose foul is fill'd
With zeal and rev'rend awe !
His lips to God their honours yield,
His life adorns the law.
2 A careful Providence shall stand,
And ever guard thy head,
Shall on the labours of thy hand
Its kindly blessings shed.
3 Thy wife shall be a fruitful vine;
Thy children round thy board,
Each like a plant of honour shine,
And learn to fear the Lord.
4 The Lord shall thy best hopes fulfil
For months and years to come ;
The Lord who dwells on Zion's hill
Shall send thee blessings home.
5 This is the man whose happy eyes
Shall fee his house increase,
Shall fee the sinking church arife,
Then leave the world in peace.
PSALM CXXIX. Common Metre.
TP from my youth, may Ifrael say,
Have I been nurs'd in tears;
My griefs were constant as the day,
And tedious as the years.
2 Up from my youth I bore the rage
Of all the fons of strife;
Oft they affail'd my riper age,
But not destroy'd my life.
3 Their cruel plough had torn my flesh,
With furrows long and deep,
Hourly they vex'd my wounds afresh,
Nor let my forrows fleep.
4 The Lord grew angry on his throne,
And with impartial eye,
Measur'd the mischiefs they had done,
Then let his arrows fly.
5 How was their insolence surpris'd
To hear his thunders roll!
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