e 3 [A poisoned arrow is your tongue, And death attends where'er it wounds: Against the power of charming sounds. d 4 Break out their teeth, eternal God, Those teeth of lions dyed in blood; And crush the serpents in the dust; As empty chaff, when whirlwinds rise, Before the sweeping tempest flies, So let their hopes and names be lost.] o 5 Th' Almighty thunders from the sky; -Their grandeur melts, their titles die, As hills of snow dissolve and run; e Or snails that perish in their slime, Or births that come before their time; Vain births that never see the sun. o 6 Thus shall the vengeance of the Lord Safety and joy to saints afford; And all who hear shall join and say, d "Sure there's a God who rules on high; "A God who hears his children cry, "And will their sufferings well repay." PSALM 60. C. M. Plymouth. [b] V. 1—5, 10—12. Humiliation for Disappointments in War. 1LORD, hast thou cast the nation off? Must we forever mourn? Wilt thou indulge immortal wrath? 2 The terror of one frown of thine Like men that totter, drunk with wine, p 3 Our nation trembles at thy stroke, o 4 Lift up thy banner in the field, 5 Go with our armies to the fight, o 6 Our troops shall gain a wide renown, g 'Tis God who treads the mighty down, And makes the feeble stand. PSALM 61. S. M. Aylesbury. [b*] P 1 W My heart within me dies; THEN overwhelmed with grief, Helpless, and far from all relief, 3 Within thy presence, Lord, Thou art the tower of my defence, ⚫ 4 Thou givest me the lot Of those that fear thy name; If endless life be their reward, PSALM 62. L. M. Bath. [*] 1 MY spirit looks to God alone; My rock and refuge is his throne; In all my fears, in all my straits, 2 Trust him, ye saints, in all your ways; e 3 False are the men of high degree; Laid in the balance, both appear -4 Make not increasing gold your trust, Nor set your hearts on glittering dust; Why will you grasp the fleeting smoke, And not believe what God has spoke? e 5 Once has his awful voice declared, Once and again my ears have heard: O "All power is his eternal due; "He must be feared and trusted too." -6 For sovereign power reigns not alone; Grace is a partner of the throne: Thy grace and justice, mighty Lord, Shall well divide our last reward. PSALM 63. C. M. 1ST PT. Sunday. Barby. [*] Ver. 1, 2, 5, 3, 4. The Morning of the Lord's Day. EARLY, my God, without delay, o 1 I haste to seek thy face; My thirsty spirit faints away, e 2 So pilgrims on the scorching sand, Long for a cooling stream at hand, g 3 I've seen thy glory and thy power o My God, repeat that heavenly hour, -4 Not all the blessings of a feast o 5 Not life itself, with all its joys, 8 6 Thus, till my last expiring day, -Thus will I lift my hands to pray, And tune my lips to sing. C. M. SECOND PART. Colchester. [*] Ver. 1-10. Midnight Thoughts recollected. e 1 ['WAS in the watches of the night, I thought upon thy power; TW I kept thy lovely face in sight, 2 My flesh lay resting on my bed, d "My God, my life, my hope," I said, 'Bring thy salvation nigh.' -3 My spirit labours up thine hill, And climbs the heavenly road; o But thy right hand upholds me still, While I pursue my God. 4 Thy mercy stretches o'er my head o My heart rejoices in thine aid, e 6 Thy sword shall give my foes to death, In the dark caverns of the earth, L. M. Moreton. Shoel. [*] REAT God, indulge my humble claim, G Thou art my hope, my joy, my rest; 2 Thou great and good, thou just and wise, And I am thine, by sacred ties- e 3 With heart and eyes, and lifted hands, As travellers, in thirsty lands, o 4 With early feet I love t' appear And felt the power of sovereign grace. o 5 Not fruits, nor wines, that tempt our taste, Nor all the joys our senses know, Could make me so divinely blest, Or raise my cheerful passions so. e 6 [My life itself, without thy love, No taste of pleasure could afford; "Twould but a tiresome burden prove, If I were banished from the Lord. -7 Amidst the wakeful hours of night, When busy cares afflict my head, • One thought of thee gives new delight, And adds refreshment to my bed.] 0 8 I'll lift my hands, I'll raise my voice, S. M. Newton. [*] 1M This joy, to call thee mine; God, permit my tongue And let my early cries prevail, 2 [My thirsty, fainting soul -No joy can be compared with this. I think how wise thy counsels are, 7 Since thou hast been my help, |