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4 The rich have statues well adorn'd with gold;
The poor, content with gods of coarfer mould,
With tools of iron carve the fenfelefs flock,
Lopt from a tree, or broken from a rock :
People and priests drive on the folemn trade,
And truft the gods that faws and hammers made.]
5 Be heaven and earth amaz'd! 'Tis hard to fay,
Which is more stupid, or their gods, or they.
O Ifrael, trust the Lord! he hears and fees,
He knows thy forrows, and reftores thy peace:
His worship does a thousand comforts yield,
He is thy help, and he thy heavenly fhield."
6 In God we truft; our impious foes in vain
Attempt our ruin, and oppofe his reign;
Had they prevail'd, darknefs had clos'd our days,
And death and filence had forbid his praise :
But we are fav'd, and live: Let fongs arife,
And Zion blefs the God that built the skies.

PSALM CXVI. 1ft Part. Com. Metre. [b] Recovery from fickness.

'I LOVE the Lord: he heard my cries,


And pity'd every groan;

Long as I live, when troubles rife,
I'll haften to his throne.

2 I love the Lord: he bow'd his ear,
And chas'd my griefs away:
O let my heart no more despair,
While I have breath to pray!

3 My flesh declin'd, my spirits fell,
And I drew near the dead;
While inward pangs, and fears of hell,
Perplex'd my wakeful head.

4 "My God, I cry'd, thy fervant fave,
"Thou ever good and just;
"Thy power can refcue from the grave,
"Thy power is all my truft."

5 The Lord beheld me fore distrest,
He bid my pains remove:
Return, my foul, to God, thy reft,
For thou haft known his love.

6 My God hath fav'd my foul from death. And dry'd my falling tears:

4 But the vain idols they adore
Are fenfelefs fhapes of ftone and wood;
At beft, a mafs of glittering ore,
A filver faint, or golden god.

5 [With eyes and ears, they carve their head;
Deaf are their ears, their eyes are blind :
In vain are coftly offerings made,

And vows are fcatter'd in the wind.
6 Their feet were never made to move,
Nor hands to fave when mortals pray;
Mortals that pay them fear or love,
Seem to be blind and deaf as they.]
70 Ifrael, make the Lord thy hope,
Thy. help, thy refuge, and thy reft:
The Lord fhall build thy ruins up,
And blefs the people and the priest.
8 The dead no more can fpeak thy praife,
They dwell in filence in the grave;
But we fhall live to fing thy grace,
And tell the world thy power to fave.

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Now to his praise I'll spend my breath,
And my remaining years.

PSALM CXVI. 2d Part. Com. Metre. [b] Ver. 12, &c. Vows, made in trouble, paid in the church; or, public thanks for private deliverance. render to my

WHAT thall I


For all his kindness fhown?
My feet fhall vifit thine abode,
My fongs addrefs thy throne.
2 Among the faints that fill thine house
My offerings fhall be paid;
There fhall my zeal perform the vows
My foul in anguish made.
3 How much is mercy thy delight,
Thou ever-bleffed God!


4 How happy all thy fervants are!
How great thy grace to me!
My life, which thou haft made thy care,
Lord, I devote to thee..

How dear thy fervants in thy fight!
How precious is their blood!

5 Now I am thine, forever thine,

Nor fhall my purpofe move;,
Thy hand hath loos'd my bonds of pain,
And bound me with thy love.

6 Here in thy courts I leave my vow,
And thy rich grace record;

Witnefs, ye faints, who hear me now,
If I forfake the Lord.



PSALM CXVII. Common Metre. [x
Praife to God from all nations.

ALL ye nations, praife the Lord,

Each with a

In every language learn his word,
And let his name be fung.

2 His mercy reigns through every land;
Proclaim his grace abroad:

Forever firm his truth fhall stand;
Praife ye the faithful God.

PSALM CXVII. Long Metre. [*]
ROM all that dwell below the skies,
Let the Creator's praife arife ;


Let the Redeemer's name be fung
Through every land, by every tongue.
Eternal are thy mercies, Lord;
Eternal truth attends thy word:
Thy praife fhall found from fhore to shore,
Till funs fhall rife and fet no more.

2 Far be thine honour spread,
And long thy praise endure,
Till morning light and evening fhade
Shall be exchang'd no more.


PSALM CXVII. Short Metre. [*]
HY name, Almighty Lord,
shall found through diftant lands;
Great is thy grace, and fure thy word,
Thy truth forever ftands.

PSALM CXVIII. 1ft Part. Com. Met. [*] Ver. 6--15. Deliverance from tumult.

HE Lord appears my helper now,
Nor is my faith afraid

Of what the fons of earth can do,
Since Heaven affords me aid.

2 'Tis fafer, Lord, to hope in thee,
And have my God my friend,
Than trust in men of high degree,
And on their truth depend.

3 Like bees my foes befet me round;
A large and angry fwarm!
But I fhall all their rage confound
By thine almighty arm.

4 'Tis through the Lord my heart is ftrong,
In him my lips rejoice;
While his falvation is my song,
How cheerful is my voice!
Like angry
bees they girt me round;
When God appears, they fly:
So burning thorns, with crackling found,
Make a fierce blaze and die.


6 Joy to the faints and peace belongs;
The Lord protects their days;
Let Ifrael tune immortal fongs
To his almighty grace.


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