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e 3 [A poison'd arrow is your tongue,
The arrow sharp, the poison strong;

And death attends where'er it wounds:
You hear no counsels, cries nor tears;
So the deaf adder stops her ears,

Against the pow'r of charming sounds. d 4 Break out their teeth, eternal God, Those teeth of lions dy'd in blood;

And crush the serpents in the dust; As empty chaff, when whirlwinds rise, Before the sweeping tempest flies,

So let their hopes and names be lost.] o 5 Th' Almighty thunders from the sky; -Their grandeur melts, their titles die, As hills of snow dissolve and run: e Or snails that perish in their slime, Or births that come before their time; Vain births that never see the sun. o 6 Thus shall the vengeance of the Lord Safety and joy to saints afford;

And all who hear shall join and say, d "Sure there's a God who rules on high; "A God who hears his children cry, "And will their suff'rings well repay."

PSALM 60. C. M. Plymouth. [b] V. 1-5, 10-12. Humiliation for Disappoint ments in War.

LORD, hast thou cast the nation off?

Must we forever mourn?

Wilt thou indulge immortal wrath?
Shall mercy ne'er return?

2 The terrour of one frown of thine,
Melts all our strength away;

Like men that totter, drunk with wine,
We tremble in dismay.

p 3 Our nation trembles at thy stroke,
And dreads thy lifted hand!
Oh, heal the people thou hast broke,
And save the sinking land.

o 4 Lift up thy banner in the field,
For those who fear thy name;
• Defend thy people with thy shield,
And put our foes to shame.

Go with our armies to the fight, Their guardian and their God; In vain confed'rate pow'rs unite Against thy lifted rod.

o 6 Our troops shall gain a wide renown, By thine assisting hand:

g 'Tis God who treads the mighty down,
And makes the feeble stand.

PSALM 61. S. M. Aylesbury. [b*]
Ver. 1-6. Safety in God.
THEN overwelm'd with grief,
My heart within me dies;
Helpless and far from all relief,
To heav'n I lift mine eyes.



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2 O lead me to the Rock,

That's high above my head;
And make the covert of thy wings
My shelter and my shade.

3 Within thy presence, Lord,
For ever I'll abide ;

Thou art the tow'r of my defence,
The refuge where I hide.

o 4 Thou givest me the lot

Of those that fear thy name;
If endless life be their reward,
I shall possess the same.

PSALM 62. L. M. Bath. [*]

Ver. 5-12.



No trust in the Creatures; but in God. spirit looks to God alone;

My rock and refuge is his throne;

In all my fears, in all my straits,
My soul on his salvation waits.

2 Trust him, ye saints, in all your ways;
Pour out your hearts before his face:
e When helpers fail, and foes invade,
o God is our all-sufficient aid.

e 3 False are the men of high degree,
The baser sort are vanity;

Laid in the balance both appear
Light as a puff of empty air.

-4 Make not increasing gold your trust,
Nor set your hearts on glitt'ring dust;
Why will you grasp the fleeting smoke,
And not believe what God has spoke ?
e 5 Once has his awful voice declar'd,
Once and again my ears have heard:
O "All power is his eternal due;

"He must be fear'd and trusted too."
-6 For sov'reign pow'r reigns not alone;
Grace is a partner of the throne:
Thy grace and justice, mighty Lord,
Shall well divide our last reward.

PSALM 63. C. M. 1ST PT. Sunday. Barby. [*] Ver. 1, 2, 5, 3, 4. The Morning of the Lord's Day.

0 1

EARLY, my God, without delay,

haste to seek thy face;

My thirsty spirit faints away,

Without thy cheering grace.

e 2 So pilgrims on the scorching sand,
Beneath a burning sky,

Long for a cooling stream at hand,
And they must drink or die.

g 3 I've seen thy glory and thy pow'r,
Through all thy temple shine;

o My God, repeat that heav'nly hour,
That vision so divine.

Not all the blessings of a feast
Can please my soul so well,
As when thy richer grace I taste,
And in thy presence dwell.

o 5 Not life itself, with all its joys,
Can my best passions move;
Or raise so high my cheerful voice,
As thy forgiving love.

s 6 Thus, 'till my last expiring day,
I'll bless my God and King;

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-Thus will I lift my hands to pray,
And tune my lips to sing.

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C. M. SECOND PART. Colchester. [*]
Ver. 1-10. Midnight Thoughts recollected.
WAS in the watches of the night,
I thought upon thy power;


I kept thy lovely face in sight,
Amidst the darkest hour.

2 My flesh lay resting on my bed,,
My soul arose on high;

d 'My God, my life, my hope, I said, 6 Bring thy salvation nigh.'

-3 My spirit labours up thine hill, And climbs the heav'nly road; o But thy right hand upholds me still, While I pursue my God.

4 Thy mercy stretches o'er my head
The shadow of thy wings;

• My heart rejoices in thine aid,
My tongue awakes and sings.
5 But the destroyers of my peace
Shall fret and rage in vain ;
The tempter shall for ever cease,
And all my sins be slain.

e 6 Thy sword shall give my foes to death,
And send them down to dwell

In the dark caverns of the earth,
Or to the depths of hell.]

L. M. Moreton. Shoel. [*]

Delight in God and his Worship. AREAT God, indulge my humble claim,

Ghou art my hope, my joy, my rest;

The glories that compose thy name,
Stand all engaged to make me blest.
2 Thou great and good, thou just and wise,
Thou art my Father and my God;

And I am thine, by sacred ties

Thy son, thy servant, bought with blood.
e 3 With heart and eyes, and lifted hands,
For thee I long, to thee I look;
As travellers, in thirsty lands,
Pant for the cooling water brook.
o 4 With early feet I love t' appear
Among thy saints, and seek thy face:
-Oft have I seen thy glory there,

And felt the pow'r of sov'reign grace.

o 5 Not fruits, nor wines, that tempt our taste, Nor all the joys our senses know,

Could make me so divinely blest, Or raise my cheerful passions so. e 6 [My life itself, without thy love No taste of pleasure could afford; 'Twould but a tiresome burden prove, If I were banish'd from the Lord.

7 Amidst the wakeful hours of night, When busy cares afflict my head, o One thought of thee gives new delight, And adds refreshment to my bed.]

s 8 I'll lift my hands, I'll raise my voice, While I have breath to pray, or praise; This work shall make my heart rejoice, And spend the remnant of my days.


S. M. Newton. [*]
Seeking God.

M This joy, to call thee mine

God, permit my tongue

And let my early cries prevail,
To taste thy love divine.
2 [My thirsty fainting soul
Thy mercy does implore:
Not travellers, in desert lands,
Can pant for water more.
3 Within thy churches, Lord,
I long to find my place;
Thy pow'r and glory to behold,
And feel thy quick'ning grace.]
4 For life, without thy love,

No relish can afford;
-No joy can be compar'd with this,
To serve and please the Lord.
o 5 To thee I'll lift my hands,


And praise thee while I live;
Not the rich dainties of a feast
Such food or pleasure give.
6 In wakeful hours of night,
I call my God to mind;

I think how wise thy counsels are,
And all thy dealings kind.

7 Since thou hast been my help,
To thee my spirit flies;

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