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Behold them not with angry look,
But blot their memory from thy book.
2 Create my nature pure within,
And form my foul averfe to fin;
Let thy good Spirit ne'er depart,
Nor hide thy prefence from my heart.
3 I cannot live without thy light,

Caft out and banifh'd from thy fight:
Thine holy joys, my God, reffore,
And guard me, that I fall no more.
4 Though I have griev'd thy Spirit, Lord,
His help and comfort ftill afford:
And let a wretch come near thy throne,
To plead the merits of thy Son.

5 A broken heart, my God, my King,
Is all the facrifice I bring;
The God of grace will ne'er defpife
A broken heart for facrifice.

6 My foul lies humbled in the duft,

And owns thy dreadful fentence juft;
Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye,
And fave the foul condemn'd to die.
7 Then will I teach the world thy ways;
Sinners fhall learn thy fovereign grace;
I'll lead them to my my Saviour's blood,
And they fhall praife a pardoning God.
8 O may thy love infpire my tongue!
Salvation fhall be all my fong;
And all my powers fhall join to blefs
The Lord, my ftrength and righteoufnefs.

PSALM LI. 1ft Part. Common Metre. [b] Ver. 3-13.

Original and actual fin confeffed and pardoned.

1 LORD, I would spread my fore diftrefs And guilt before eyes;

Against thy laws, against thy grace,
How high my crimes arife!

2 Should't thou condemn my foul to hell,
And crufh my flesh to duft,
Heaven would approve thy vengeance well,
And earth mult own it juft.

3 I from the flock of Adam came, Unholy and unclean;

All my original is fhame,
And all my nature fin.

4 Born in a world of guilt, I drew
Contagion with my breath;
And as my days advanc'd, I grew
A jufter prey for death.

5 Cleanfe me, O Lord, and cheer my foul
With thy forgiving love;
O make my broken fpirit whole,
And bid my pains remove.
6 Let not thy Spirit quite depart,
Nor drive me from thy face;
Create anew my vicious heart,
And fill it with thy grace.

7 Then will I make thy mercy known Before the fons of men;

·Backfliders fhall addrefs thy throne, And turn to God again.

PSALM LI. 2d Part. Common Metre. [b] Ver. 14-17.

Repentance and faith in the blood of Chrif.

1 GOD of mercy, hear my call,

Break down this feparating wall
That bars me from thy love.

2 Give me the prefence of thy grace,
Then my rejoicing tongue
Shall fpeak aloud thy righteoufnefs,
And make thy praife my fong.

3 No blood of goats, nor heifer flain,
For fin could e'er atone;

The death of Chrift fhall fill remain
Sufficient and alone.

4 A foul opprefs'd with fin's defert,
My God will ne'er defpife:
A humble groan, a broken heart,
Is our beft facrifice.

PSALM LIII. Common Metre. [*]

Ver. 4-6.
Victory and deliverance from persecution.
RE all the foes of Zion fools,


Do they not know her Saviour rules,
And pities her complaints?

2 They fhall be feiz'd with fad furprise;
For God's revenging arm

Scatters the bones of them that rife
To do his children harm.

3 In vain the fons of Satan boaft
Of armies in array;

When God has firft defpis'd their hoft,
They fall an easy prey.

4 O for a word from Zion's King,
Her captives to restore !
Jacob, with all the tribes, fhall fing,
And Judah weep no more.

PSALM LV. Common Metre. [b]
Ver. 1-8, 16, 17, 18, 22.

Support for the afflicted and tempted foul.
GOD, my refuge, hear my cries,
Behold my

For earth and hell my hurt devife,
And triumph in my fears.

2 Their rage is levell'd at my life,
My foul with guilt they load,
And fill my thoughts with inward ftrife,
To fhake my hope in God.

3 With inward pain my heart-ftrings found,
I groan with every breath;
Horror and fear befet me round
Among the fhades of death.
4 O were I like a feather'd dove,
And innocence had wings;
I'd fly, and make a long remove
From all thefe reftlefs things.

5 Let me to fome wild defart go,
And find a peaceful home,
Where ftorms of malice never blow,
Temptations never come.

6 Vain hopes, and vain inventions all,
To 'fcape the rage of hell!
The mighty God, on whom I call,
Can fave me here as well.


7 By morning light I'll feek his face,
At noon repeat my cry:
The night fhall hear me afk his grace,
Nor will he long deny.

8 God fhall preferve my foul from fear,
Or fhield me when afraid;
Ten thousand angels must appear,
If he command their aid.


I caft my burdens on the Lord,
The Lord fuftains them all;
My courage refts upon his word,
That faints fhall never fall.

10 My highest hopes fhall not be vain ; My lips fhall fpread his praife: While cruel and deceitful men

Scarce live out half their days.

PSALM LV. Short Metre. [*] Ver. 15-17, 19, 22. Dangerous profperity; or, daily devotion encouraged. ET finners take their courfe,




My thoughts addrefs his throne,
When morning brings the light;
I feek his bleffing every noon,
And pay my vows at night.
Thou wilt regard my cries,
Omy eternal God!
While finners perifh in furprise
Beneath thine angry rod.
Because they dwell at cafe,
And no fad changes feel,
They neither fear nor truft thy name,
Nor learn to do thy will.


But in the worship of my God
I'll spend my daily breath.

But I, with all my cares,
Will lean upon the Lord;
I'll caft my burden on his arm,
And reft upon his word.


His arm fhall well fuftain
The children of his love;
The ground, on which their fafety flands,
No earthly power can move.


PSALM LVI. Common Metre. [b] Deliverance from oppreffon and falfehood; or, God's care of his people, in anfwer to faith and prayer. 1THOU, whofe juftice reigns on high, And makes the


Behold how envious finners try
To vex and break my peace.
2 The fons of violence and lies
Join to devour me, Lord;
But as my hourly dangers rife,
My refuge is thy word.

3 In God most holy, just and true,
I have repos'd my truft,
Nor will I fear what flesh can do,
The offspring of the duft.

4 They wreft my words to mischief ftill,
Charge me with unknown faults;
Mischief doth all their counfels fill,
And malice all their thoughts.

5 Shall they efcape without thy frown?
Muft their devices ftand?

O caft the haughty finner down,
And let him know thy hand!


6 God counts the forrows of his faints,
Their groans affect his ears;
Thou haft a book for my complaints,
A bottle for my tears.

7 When to thy throne I raise my cry,
The wicked fear and flee;

So fwift is prayer to reach the fky,
So near is God to me.

8 In thee, moft holy, just and true,
I have repos'd my trust;
Nor will I fear what men can do,
The offspring of the duft.

9 Thy folemn vows are on me, Lord,
Thou shalt receive my praife;
I'll fing, "How faithful is thy word!
"How righteous all thy ways!"

10 Thou haft fecur'd my foul from death;

O fet thy prifoner free:

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