HAPPY the man who fears to stray
Where men ungodly meet;
Nor stands where sinners crowd the way;
Nor fills the scorner's seat.
Thy word, my God, his chief delight,
There all his thoughts abide;
His solace through the glooms of night,
By day his constant guide.
Like some tall tree, in strength array'd,
By copious rivers fed,
Large swells its fruit; broad spreads its shade;
And verdant is its head.
Thus with the Lord, in union join'd,
The happy Christian grows :
While holy influence fills the mind,
His works his state disclose.
With full supplies to bless his roots,
His verdure never dies :
Laden with leaves and timely fruits,
He ripens for the skies.
WHY did the Gentiles in disdain,
With Israel's race engage?
Rulers and kings, exert in vain
Their impotence of rage?
Their tongues Jehovah's pow'r defy;
Their hands th' Anointed slay;
"Come, let us break their bands," they cry,
"And cast their cords away."
The Lord shall all their rage deride,
He mocks their vain design;
From Heav'n he scorns their impious pride,
Though angry crowds combine.
He speaks-and vengeance from his throne
Shall all his foes confound;
"Let men th' Anointed Saviour own,"
"Ere judgments pour around."
"Yet," says the Lord, "on Zion's hill,
"My King his throne maintains
""Tis fixt-my purpose I'll fulfil;
"Jesus, Messiah, reigns.'
PSALM III. {} {
LORD, how my numerous foes increase!
Excite my fears! disturb my peace!
The powers of hell against me rise,
And "God," they cry, "his help denies."
But thou, my glory and my shield,
My God, thy powerful aid shalt yield:
On thee my steadfast hopes repose,
To lift my head o'er all my foes.
To God I cried, my ev'ning pray'r
Humbly implor'd Jehovah's care:
He bow'd, my wishes to fulfil,
And heard me from his holy hill.
Then, with his guardian mercy blest,
I laid my weary frame to rest;
Sweet slumbers clos'd my peaceful eyes,
Nor foes molest, nor fears surprize.
Again the shades of darkness flee,
I wake, sustain'd, my God, by thee:
Thy guardian care renews my days,
And claims my morning song of praise.
HEAR when I call, thou God most just!
My God, thy righteousness I trust :
Oft has thy grace reliev'd my care,
Again let mercy hear my pray'r.
How long will men their counsel frame,
To turn my confidence to shame ?
How long their fruitless hopes renew,
And vanities and lies pursue.
Now let the world assured know
The Lord regards his saints below;
He marks the men who fear his name,
And bids their faith his mercies claim.
Hear, sinners hear-with holy awe,
Before him stand, observe his law;
In silence on your bed rehearse
His acts; and with your heart converse.
Thus let your pray'r and praise arise,
Through Christ th' accepted sacrifice:
And while his righteousness ye claim,
Obey his will, and trust his name.
MY gracious Lord, thine ear incline, When wrapt in thoughts of things divine, My words entreat thy care:
O hear my cries, which reach thy throne,
For thee, my King, my God, I own:
I'll raise to thee my pray❜r.
While yet the morning rays appear,
Thou, Lord, my earnest suit shalt hear,
My voice to thee shall rise:
I stretch my hands, by early light,
And faith, thy mercies to invite,
Looks out with longing eyes.
My God, no guilt delights thy mind,
No sin can e'er indulgence find,
Nor sinners near thee stand;
The men of falsehood and of blood,
Shall sink to death, abhorr'd of God,
And fall beneath his hand.
But as for me-thy courts I'll tread,
There by thy gracious guidance led,
With all thy mercies blest!"
With holy fear I'll worship there,
In Jesus' name present my pray'r,
And on thy promise rest.
REBUKE me not, thou gracious Lord,
While wrath directs thy hand;
Nor bid me, while thine anger burns,
Beneath thy chast'ning stand.
Let mercy guide th' afflictive stroke,
And soften ev'ry pain;
Fast sinking to the grave, restore
My trembling bones again.
Behold, my contrite spirit fails,
With num'rous fears opprest;
How long, thou gracious Lord, how long!
O give the promis'd rest.
Lord, since thy mercy's rich and free,
Return, my soul to save :
For who shall mention thee in death,
Or praise thee in the grave?
|