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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.
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!
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.