4 The rich have ftatues 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, truft the Lord! he hears and fees,
He knows thy forrows, and restores 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 praife:
But we are fav'd, and live: Let fongs arife,
And Zion blefs the God that built the fkies.

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

I

1 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 defpair,
While I have breath to pray!
3 My flesh declin'd, my fpirits 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.

PSALM CXV. Particular Metre. [x]
Popish idolatry reproved.

1 NOT tour worthless names is glory due;
OT to our names, thou only juft and true,
Thy power and grace, thy truth and juftice claim
Immortal honours to thy fovereign name.

Shine through the earth from heaven thy bleft abode, Nor let the heathen fay, "And where's your God !" 2 Heaven is thy higher court, there ftands thy throne, And through the lower worlds thy will is done.

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

PSALM CXVI. 2d Part. Com. Metre. [6]
Ver. 12, &c. Vows, made in trouble, paid in the
church; or, public thanks for private deliverance.
HAT fhall I render to my God
For all his kindnefs fhown?

1

WHA

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!

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

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..

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.

1

1

PSALM CXVII. Common Metre. [x]

Praife to God from all nations.
ALL ye nations, praise the Lord,
Each with a diff'rent tongue :

In every language learn his word,

And let his name be fung.

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

Forever firm his truth fhall ftand;

Praife ye the faithful God.

PSALM CXVII. Long Metre. [*]

FR the Creator's praife arife;

ROM all that dwell below the skies,

Let the Redeemer's name be fung
Through every land, by every tongue.
2 Eternal are thy mercies, Lord;
Eternal truth attends thy word:

1

Thy praife fhall found from fhore to fhore,
Till funs fhall rife and fet no more.

PSALM CXVII. Short Metre. [x]
HY name, Almighty Lord,

lands;

Great is thy grace, and fure thy word,
Thy truth forever ftands.

2 Far be thine honour fpread,

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

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

Tor is my faith afraid

HE Lord appears my helper now,

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 truft 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 fong,

How cheerful is my voice!

5 Like angry bees they girt me round;
When God appears, they fly:

So burning thorns, with crackling sound,
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.

R