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7 By long experience have I known
Thy fovereign power to fave;
At thy command I venture down
Securely to the grave.

8 When I lie bury'd deep in duft,
My flefh fhall be thy care;

Thefe withering limbs with thee I truft,
To raise them ftrong and fair.

PSALM LXXII. 1ft Part. Long Metre. [*] The kingdom of Chrift.

1

REAT God, whofe univerfal fway
obey,
Now give the kingdom to thy Son,
Extend his power, exalt his throne.
2 Thy fceptre well becomes his hands,.
All heaven fubmits to his commands;
His juftice fhall avenge the poor,
And pride and rage prevail no more.
3 With power he vindicates the just,
And treads th' oppreffor in the duft:
His worship and his fear fhall last,

Till hours, and years, and time be past.
4 As rain on meadows newly mown,
So fhall he fend his influence down;
His grace on fainting fouls diftils,
Like heavenly dew on thirty hills.
5 The heathen lands, that lie beneath
The fhades of overfpreading death,
Revive at his firft dawning light,
And defarts bloffom at the fight.
6 The faints fhall flourish in his days,
Dreft in the robes of joy and praise;
Peace, like a river, from his throne
Shall flow to nations yet unknown.

PSALM LXXII. 2d Part. Long Metre. [*]
Chrift's kingdom among the Gentiles.
ESUS fhall reign where'er the fun
Does his fucceffive journies run:

1

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His kingdom ftretch from fhore to shore, Till moons fhall wax and wane no more. 2 [Behold! the iflands, with their kings, And Europe her beft tribute brings :

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From north to fouth the princes meet
To pay their homage at his feet.
3 There Perfia, glorious to behold,
There India fhines in Eaftern gold;
And barbarous nations, at his word,
Submit, and bow, and own their Lord.]
4 For him fhall endless prayer be made,
And praifes throng to crown his head;
His name, like fweet perfume, fhall rife
With every morning facrifice.

5 People, and realms of every tongue
Dwell on his love with fweeteft fong;
And infant voices fhall proclaim
Their early bleffings on his name.
6 Bleffings abound where'er he reigns;
The prifoner leaps to loose his chains,
The weary find eternal reft,

And all the fons of want are bleft.
7 [Where he difplays his healing power,
Death and the curfe are known no more;
In him the tribes of Adain boast
More bleffings than their father loft.
8 Let every creature rife and bring
Peculiar honours to our King;
Angels defcend with fongs again,
And earth repeat the long amen.]

PSALM LXXIII. 1ft Part. Com. Metre. [b]
Afflicted faints happy, and profperous finners cursed.
TOW I'm convinc'd the Lord is kind

1

NOW

To men of heart fincere,

Yet once my foolish thoughts repin'd
And border'd on defpair.

2 I griev'd to fee the wicked thrive,
And fpoke with angry breath,
"How pleafant and profane they live!
"How peaceful is their death!

3

4

"With well-fed flesh and haughty eyes
"They lay their fears to fleep;

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Again the heavens their flanders rife,
"While faints in filence weep.

"In vain I lift my hands to pray,
"And cleanfe my heart in vain,

"For I am chaften'd all the day,
"The night renews my pain."

Yet while my tongue indulg'd complaints,
I felt my heart reprove;

"Sure I fhall thus offend thy faints,
"And grieve the men I love."

6 But ftill I found my doubts too hard,
The conflict too fevere,

Till I retir'd to fearch thy word,
And learn thy fecrets there.

7 There, as in fome prophetic glass,
I faw the finner's feet

High mounted on a flippery place,
Befide a fiery pit.

I heard the wretch profanely boast,
Til at thy frown he fell;
His honours in a dream were loft,
And he awakes in hell.

9 Lord, what an envious fool I was!
How like a thoughtless beaft!
Thus to fufpect thy promis'd grace,
And think the wicked bleft!

10 Yet I was kept from fell despair,
Upheld by power unknown;
That bleffed hand that broke the fnare
Shall guide me to thy throne.

PSALM LXXIII. 2d Part. Com. Met. [*]
Ver. 23-28. God our portion here and hereafter.
1 OD, my fupporter and my hope,
My help for ever near,

Thine arm of mercy held me up,
When finking in despair.

2 Thy counfels, Lord, fhall guide my feet
Through this dark wilderness;

Thine hand conduct me near thy feat,
To dwell before thy face.

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3 Were I in heaven without my God,
'Twould be no joy to me;

And whilst this earth is my abode,
I long for none but thee.

4 What if the fprings of life were broke,
And flesh and heart fhould faint!

God is my foul's eternal rock,
The ftrength of every faint.
5 Behold the finners, that remove
Far from thy prefence, die;
Not all the idol gods they love
Can fave them when they cry.
6 But to draw near to thee, my God,
Shall be my fweet employ;

My tongue fhall found thy works abroad,
And tell the world my joy.

PSALM LXXIII. Long Metre. [*]
Ver. 22, 3, 6, 17-20.

The profperity of finners curfed.

LORD, what a thoughtless wretch was I,
Το mourn, and murmur, and repine
To fee the wicked plac'd on high,
In pride and robes of honour thine!
2 But, O their end, their dreadful end!
Thy fanctuary taught me fo :

On flippery rocks I fee them stand,
And fiery billows roll below.

3 Now let them boaft how tall they rife,
I'll never envy them again,

There they may ftand with haughty eyes,
Till they plunge deep in endless pain.
4 Their fancy'd joys, how faft they flee!
Juft like a dream when man awakes;
Their fongs of fofteft harmony
Are but a preface to their plagues.
5 Now I efteem their mirth and wine
Too dear to purchase with my blood;
Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine,
My life, my portion, and my God.

1

PSALM LXXIII. Short Metre. [b]
The mystery of providence unfolded.
SURE there's a righteous God,

Nor is religion vain;

Though men of vice may boaft aloud,
And men of grace complain.

2 I faw the wicked rife,

And felt my heart repine,

3

While haughty fools, with fcornful eyes,
In robes of honour fhine.

[Pamper'd with wanton eafe,

Their flesh looks full and fair:
Their wealth rolls in like flowing feas,
And grows without their care.

4 Free from the plagues and pains
That pious fouls endure,

5

Through all their life oppreffion reigns,
And racks the humble poor.

Their impious tongues blafpheme
The everlafting God:

Their malice blafts the good man's name,
And fpreads their lies abroad.

6 But I, with flowing tears,

Indulg'd my doubts to rife;
"Is there a God that fees or hears
"The things below the fkies?"]
7 The tumults of my thought
Held me in hard fufpenfe,

Till to thy houfe my feet were brought,
To learn thy juftice thence.

8 Thy word with light and power
Did my mistakes amend;

9

I view'd the finners' lives before,

But here I learnt their end.

On what a flippery fleep
The thoughtlefs wretches go:
And O that dreadful fiery deep,
That waits their fall below!

10 Lord, at thy feet I bow,

My thoughts no more repine; I call my God my portion now, And all my powers are thine.

PSALM LXXIV. Common Metre. [b] The church pleading with God under fore perfecution.

1

WILL

WILL God forever caft us off? His wrath forever smoke Against the people of his love,

His little chofen flock?

2 Think of the tribes fo dearly bought With their Redeemer's blood;

3

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