PSALM XXII. Long Metre. [b]
Now
Christ's fufferings and exaltation. OW let our mournful fongs record The dying forrows of our Lord, When he complain'd in tears and blood, As one forfaken of his God.
2 The Jews beheld him thus forlorn,
And hook their heads, and laugh'd in fcorn; "He refcued others from the grave, "Now let him try himfelf to fave. 3 "This is the man did once pretend "God was his father and his friend; "If God the bleffed lov'd him fo,
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'Why doth he fail to help him now? 4 Barbarous people! cruel priefts!
How they flood round like favage beafts, Like lions gaping to devour,
When God had left him in their power. 5 They wound his head, his hands, his feet, Till ftreams of blood each other meet; By lot his garments they divide,
And mock the pangs in which he dy'd. 6 But God his father heard his cry; Rais'd from the dead, he reigns on high; The nations learn his righteoufnefs, And humble finners tafte his grace.
PSALM XXIII. Long Metre. [*] God our fhepherd.
MY Y fhepherd is the living Lord : Now fhall my wants be well fupply'd: His providence and holy word, Become my fafety and my guide. 2 In paftures where falvation grows He makes me feed, he makes me reft; There living water gently flows, And all the food's divinely blest. 3 My wandering feet his ways mistake, But he reftores my foul to peace, And leads me, for his mercy's fake, In the fair paths of righteousness.
4 Though I walk through the gloomy vale, Where death and all its terrors are,
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My heart and hope fhall never fail, For God my fhepherd's with me there. 5 Amidst the darkness and the deeps, Thou art my comfort, thou my tay; Thy ftaff fupports my feeble fteps, Thy rod directs my doubtful way. 6 The fons of earth and fons of hell Gaze at thy goodness, and repine To fee my table fpread fo well, With living bread and cheerful wine. 7 [How I rejoice, when on my head Thy Spirit condefcends to reft! 'Tis a divine anointing, fhed Like oil of gladness at a feast. 8 Surely the mercies of the Lord
Attend his household all their days; There will I dwell to hear his word, To feek his face, and fing his praife.]
PSALM XXIII. Common Metre.
MY fhepherd will fupply my need,
Jehovah is his name;
In paftures fresh he makes me feed, Befide the living stream.
2 He brings my wandering fpirit back, When I forfake his ways;
And leads me, for his mercy's fake, In paths of truth and grace.
3 When I walk through the fhades of death, Thy prefence is my ftay;
A word of thy fupporting breath Drives all my fears away.
4 Thy hand, in fight of all my foes, Doth ftill my table spread; My cup with bleffings overflows, Thine oil anoints my head. The fure provifions of my God Attend me all my days; O may thine house be mine abode, And all my work be praise.
6 There would I find a fettled reft, (While others go and come) No more a ftranger or a guest, But like a child at home.
PSALM XXIII. Short Metre. [*] HE Lord my fhepherd is,
Since he is mine, and I am his, What can I want befide? He leads me to the place Where heavenly pafture grows, Where living waters gently país, And full falvation flows.
If e'er I go aftray,
He doth my foul reclaim, And guides me in his own right, way, For his most holy name. While he affords his aid, I cannot yield to fear;
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Though I fhould walk through death's dark shade, My fhepherd's with me there.
5 In fight of all my foes Thou doft my table spread, My cup with bleffings overflows, And joy exalts my head. 6 The bounties of thy love
Shall crown my following days; Nor from thy houfe will I remove, Nor ceafe to fpeak thy praise.
PSALM XXIV. Common Metre. [*] Dwelling with God.
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HE earth forever is the Lord's, With Adam's numerous race; He rais'd its arches o'er the floods, And built it on the feas.
2 But who among the fons of men May vifit thine abode ?
He that has hands from mifchief clean, Whose heart is right with God.
3 This is the man may rife, and take The bleffings of his grace; This is the lot of thofe that feek The God of Jacob's face. Now let our fouls' immortal powers To meet the Lord prepare; Lift up their everlasting doors, The King of Glory's near.
5 The King of Glory! who can tell The wonders of his might? He rules the nations; but to dwell With faints, is his delight.
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PSALM XXIV. Long Metre. [*] Saints dwell in heaven; or, Chrift's afcenfion. HIS fpacious earth is all the Lord's, And men, and worms, and beafts, and birds; He rais'd the building on the feas, And gave it for their dwelling-place. 2 But there's a brighter world on high, Thy palace, Lord, above the fky: Who fhall afcend that bleft abode, And dwell fo near his maker, God?
8 He that abhors and fears to fin,
Whole heart is pure, whole hands are clean; Him fhall the Lord the Saviour blefs, And clothe his foul with righteousness. 4 Thefe are the men, the pious race, That feek the God of Jacob's face; Thefe fhall enjoy the blifsful fight, And dwell in everlafting light. PAUSE.
5 Rejoice, ye fhining worlds on high, Behold the King of Glory nigh! Who can this King of Glory be? The mighty Lord, the Saviour's he. 6 Ye heavenly gates, your leaves difplay, To make the Lord the Saviour way: Laden with fpoils from earth and hell, The Conqueror comes with God to dwell.
7 Rais'd from the dead, he goes before, He opens heaven's eternal door, To give his faints a bleft abode
Near their Redeemer and their God.
PSALM XXV. 1ft Part. Short Metre. [b]
Ver. 1-11. Waiting for pardon and direction. my foul to God, My truft is in his name: Let not my foes that feek my blood Still triumph in my fhame.
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2 Sin and the powers of hell Perfuade me to defpair; Lord, make me know thy covenant well, That I may 'fcape the fnare. From the first dawning light Till the dark evening rife, For thy falvation, Lord, I wait With ever longing eyes. Remember all thy grace, And lead me in thy truth; Forgive the fins of riper days, And follies of my youth.
6 For his own goodness' fake He faves my foul from fhame : He pardons (though my guilt be great) Through my Redeemer's name.
PSALM XXV. 2d Part. Short Metre. [*] Ver. 12, 14, 10, 13. Divine inftruction. HERE fhall the man be found,
offend his
That loves the gofpel's joyful found, And trembles at the rod?
The Lord is juft and kind; The meek fhall learn his ways; And every humble finner find The methods of his grace.
The Lord fhall make him know The fecrets of his heart, The wonders of his covenant fhow, And all his love impart.
The dealings of his hand Are truth and mercy ftill, With fuch as to his covenant ftand, And love to do his will.
Their fouls fhall dwell at ease Before their Maker's face : Their feed fhall tafte the promifes In their extensive grace.
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