PSALM XLVI.

GOD is our refuge in distress,
A present help when dangers press;
In him undaunted we'll confide :
Though earth were from her centre tost,
And mountains in the ocean lost,

Torn piece-meal by the roaring tide.

A gentler stream, with gladness still
The city of our Lord shall fill,

The royal seat of God most high :
God dwells in Sion, whose fair towers
Shall mock th' assaults of earthly powers,
While his almighty aid is nigh.

In tumults when the heathen raged,

And kingdoms war against us waged,

He thundered, and dispersed their powers:

The Lord of Hosts conducts our arms,

Our tower of refuge in alarms,

Our fathers' guardian God and ours.

Come, see the wonders He hath wrought, On earth what desolation brought;

How He has calmed the jarring world: He broke the warlike spear and bow ; With them the thundering chariots too Into devouring flames were hurled.

Submit to God's almighty sway,
For Him the heathen shall obey,

And earth her sovereign Lord confess : The God of Hosts conducts our arms,

Our tower of refuge in alarms,

As to our fathers in distress.

FROM PSALM CIII.

THE Lord abounds with tender love,
And unexampled acts of grace;
His wakened wrath doth slowly move,
His willing mercy flows apace.

God will not always harshly chide, But with His anger swiftly part : And loves His punishments to guide, More by His love than our desert.

As high as heaven its arch extends
Above this little spot of clay,

So much His boundless love transcends
The small respects that we can pay.

As far as 'tis from east to west,

So far has He our sins removed;

Who, with a father's tender breast,

Has such as fear Him always loved.

FROM PSALM CIV.

BLESS God, my soul!-Thou, Lord, alone
Possessest empire without bounds;
With honour Thou art crown'd, Thy throne
Eternal majesty surrounds.

With light Thou dost Thyself enrobe,
And glory for a garment take;
Heav'n's curtains stretch beyond the globe,
Thy canopy of state to make.

God builds on liquid air, and forms
His palace-chambers in the skies;

The clouds his chariots are, and storms
The swift-winged steeds with which he flies.

As bright as flame, as swift as wind,
His ministers heaven's palace fill;
All have their sundry tasks assigned;

All proud to serve their Sovereign's will.

The various troops of sea and land
In sense of common want agree;
All wait on Thy dispensing hand,

And have their daily alms from Thee.

They gather what Thy stores disperse,
Without their trouble to provide:
Thou op'st Thine hand, The Universe,
The craving world, is all supplied.

Thou for a moment hid'st Thy face,

The num'rous ranks of creatures mourn; Thou tak'st their breath, all nature's race Forthwith to mother earth return.

Again Thou send'st Thy Spirit forth
T' inspire the mass with vital seed;
Nature's restor'd, and parent earth

Smiles on her new-created breed.

Thus through successive ages stands. Firm fix'd, Thy providential care; Pleas'd with the work of Thy own hands, Thou dost the wastes of time repair.