Thy ftrengthening hands upholds the weak,
And raile the poor that fall.
2 When forrow bows the fpirit down,
Or virtue lies diftrefs'd

Beneath fome proud oppreffor's frown,
Thou giv'ft the mourners reft. ·
3 The Lord fupports our tottering days,
And guides our giddy youth:
Holy and just are all his ways,
And all his words are truth.

4

He knows the pain his fervants feel,
He hears his children cry,
And, their best wishes to fulfil,
His grace is ever nigh.

His mercy never fhall remove
From men of heart fincere :

He faves the fouls, whofe humble love
Is join'd with holy fear.

6 [His ftubborn foes his fword fhall flay,
And pierce their hearts with pain;
But none that ferve the Lord fhall fay,
"They fought his aid in vain."]

7 [My lips fhall dwell upon his praise,
And fpread his fame abroad;
Let all the fons of Adam rarfe
The honours of their God.]

PSALM CXLVI. Long Metre. [*]
Praife to God for his goodness and truth.
1 PRAISE ye the Lord; my heart fhall join
In works fo pleasant, fo divine;

Now while the flesh is mine abode, And when my foul afcends to God. 2 Praife fhall employ my noblest powers, While immortality endures:

My days of praise fhall ne'er be past, While life and thought and being laft. 3 Why fhould I make a man my trust? Princes muft die and turn to duft; Their breath departs, their pomp and power, And thoughts all vanish in an hour. 4 Happy the man, whofe hopes rely On Ifrael's God: he made the fky,

And earth, and feas, with all their train,
And none fhall find his promife vain.
5 His truth forever ftands fecure:

He faves th' opprefs'd, he feeds the poor;
He fends the labouring confcience peace,
And grants the prifoner fweet release.
6 The Lord hath eyes to give the blind;
The Lord fupports the finking mind;
He helps the ftranger in diftrefs,
The widow and the fatherless.

7 He loves his faints, he knows them well,
But turns the wicked down to hell:
Thy God, O Zion! ever reigns;
Praife him in everlafting ftrains.

PSALM CXLVI. Particular Metre. [*]
Praife to God for his goodness and truth.
1 I'LL praife my Maker with my breath;
And when my voice is loft in death,
Praife fhall employ my nobler powers:
My days of praise fhall ne'er be past,
While life, and thought, and being laft,
Or immortality endures.

2 Why fhould I make a man my truft ?
Princes muft die and turn to duft:

Vain is the help of flesh and blood;
Their breath departs, their pomp and power,
And thoughts all vanish in an hour;

Nor can they make their promise good.

3 Happy the man whofe hopes rely On Ifrael's God: he made the sky,

4

5

And earth, and feas, with all their train;
His truth forever ftands fecure:

He faves th' opprefs'd, he feeds the poor;
And none fhall find his promise vain.
The Lord hath eyes to give the blind;
The Lord fupports the finking mind;

He fends the labouring confcience peace;
He helps the ftranger in diftrefs,
The widow and the fatherlefs,

And grants the prifoner fweet release.
He loves his faints, he knows them well,
But turns the wicked down to hell:

Thy God, O Zion, ever reigns;

W

Let every tongue, let every age,
In this exalted work engage;

Praise him in everlafting ftrains.

6 I'll praife him while he lends me breath,
And when my voice is loft in death,
Praife fhall employ my nobler powers:
My days of praife fhall ne'er be paft,
While life, and thought, and being laft,
Or immortality endures.

PSALM CXLVII. 1ft Part. Long Metre. [x]
The Divine Nature, Providence and Grace.
1 PRAISE ye the Lord: tis good to raise
hearts and voices in his praise :

His nature and his works invite
To make this duty our delight.
2 The Lord builds up Jerufalem,
And gathers nations to his name;
His mercy melts the ftubborn foul,
And makes the broken fpirit whole.
3 He form'd the ftars, thofe heavenly flames
He counts their numbers, calls their names
His wifdom's vaft, and knows no bound,
A deep where all our thoughts are drown'd."
Great is our Lord, and great his might;
And all his glories infinite:

He crowns the meek, rewards the juft,
And treads the wicked to the duft.

PAUSE.

5 Sing to the Lord, exalt him high,
Who fpreads his clouds all round the fky;
There he prepares the fruitful rain,
Nor lets the drops defcend in vain.
6 He makes the grafs the hills adorn,
And clothes the fmiling fields with corn:
The beafts with food his hands fupply,
And the young ravens when they cry.
7 What is the creature's fkill or force?
The fprightly man, the warlike horse,
The nimble wit, the active limb?
All are too mean delights for him.
8 But faints are lovely in his fight:
He views his children with delight:

He fees their hope, he knows their fear, And looks and loves his image there. PSALM CXLVII. 2d Part. Long Metre. [*] Summer and winter.

1

L

ET Zion praise the mighty God,

And make his honours known abroad;
"For fweet the joy, our fongs to raise,
"And glorious is the work of praise."
2 Our children are fecure and bleft;
Our shores have peace, our cities reft;
He feeds our fons with fineft wheat,
And adds his bleffing to their meat.
3 The changing feafons he ordains,
The early and the latter rains;

His flakes of fnow like wool he fends,
And thus the fpringing corn defends.
With hoary froft he ftrews the ground;
His hail defcends with clattering found;
Where is the man fo vainly bold,
That dares defy his dreadful cold?
He bids the fouthern breezes blow;
The ice diffolves, the waters flow:
But he hath nobler works and ways
To call his people to his praise.
6 To all our realm his laws are shown
His gofpel through the nation known:
He hath not thus reveal'd his word
To every land :-Praise ye the Lord!

1

PSALM CXLVII. Common Metre. [*] Ver. 7-9, 13-18. The seasons of the year.

WITH

ITH fongs and honours founding loud,
Addrefs the Lord on high;

Over the heavens he fpreads his cloud,
And waters veil the fky.

He fends his fhowers of bleffings down
To cheer the plains below;

He makes the grafs the mountains crown,
And corn in vallies grow.

3 He gives the grazing ox his meat;
He hears the ravens cry;

But man, who taftes his fineft wheat,
Should raife his honours high.

4 His fteady counfels change the face
Of the declining year;

He bids the fun cut fhort his race,
And wint'ry days appear.

5 His hoary froft, his fleecy fnow
Defcend and clothe the ground;
The liquid ftreams forbear to flow,
In icy fetters bound.

6 When from his dreadful ftores on high
He pours the rattling hail,

The wretch that dares this God defy
Shall find his courage fail.

7 He fends his word, and melts the fnow,
The fields no longer mourn;

He calls the warmer gales to blow,
And bids the spring return.

8 The changing wind, the flying cloud
Obey his mighty word:

With fongs and honours founding loud,
Praise ye the fovereign Lord.

PSALM CXLVIII.

1

Particular Metre. [*]

Praife to God from all creatures.
E tribes of Adam, join

YE

With heaven, and earth, and feas,

And offer notes divine

To your Creator's praife.

Ye holy throng

Of angels bright,
In worlds of light,

Begin the song.

2 Thou fun, with dazzling rays,
And moon, that rules the night,
Shine to your Maker's praife,
With ftars of twinkling light.
His power declare,
Ye floods on high,
And clouds that fly
In empty air.

3 The fhining worlds above
In glorious order ftand,
Or in fwift courfes move,
By his fupreme command.