8

Who barter's not his foul's esteem, Whate'er proud fin its worth may deem; But, frank to all, thofe only loves

In whom a kindred spirit moves.

9 A friend to all, the dearest joy
Which wealth affords, is to employ
His wealth in tempering fuffering's woe;
To give, is to be God below.

ΙΟ

II

In hatred's trade he bears no part,
Subdues with love th' unfriendly heart;
And crimes, which challenge mercy's frown,
He leaves to God on judgment's throne.

This is the man of heavenly kind,
Who bears thro' life a godlike mind;
And he fhall rife to God above,
In the bleft world of peace and love.

XXVIII. PSALM XVI. Com. M. WATTS.

Bleffing from GOD, and perfect Satisfaction in him.

SAY

I AVE me, O Lord, from every foe;
In thee my trust I place;
Though all the good that I can do,
Is far beneath thy grace.

2 Yet if my God prolong my breath,
My lengthened life I'll spend
In better ways, prepare for death,
And make e'en death my friend.
Let heathens to their idols hafte,
To things of wood or stone;
I thank thee, God, my lot is caft
Where all thy truth is known.

3

4 Thy hand provides my constant food,
And fills my daily cup;

Much am I pleafed with prefent good,
But more rejoice in hope.

5 Thou art my portion, and my stay;
Thou art my beft delight;

Thou art the fun that lights my day,
The calm that ftills my night.

6 My foul would all her thoughts approve
To thine all-feeing eye;

Nor death nor hell my faith fhall move,
While fuch a friend is nigh.

XXIX. PSALM XVI. Com. M. PATRICK.

The fame, with Submiffion to Providence.

G

OD is my portion, all my good
From his rich mercy flows;
And his kind providence fecures
The bleffings he bestows.

2 I envy not the great man's ftate,
I envy not his store;

Much am I pleased with what I have,
With what I hope for, more.

3 Yet, Lord, with wisdom I would bow
To thy chaftifing rod;

Chaftifement guards me from the world,
And turns my thoughts on God.

4 While thou art prefent to my mind,
My mind to nobler views

Than all of earth or fenfe, afpires;
And earth and fenfe fubdues.

5 And whether profperous or adverse My lot of life shall be;

I

Still may I guard my foul from ill,
And ftill make fure of thee.

XXX. PSALM XVI. Long Met.
Fortitude and Hope in Death.

B

E ftrong, my heart; and still adore Thy God, and ftill thy faith approve ; This is thy laft conflicting hour,

The last dear proof of virtuous love.

2 Be ftrong my heart; thy comfort this,
Though death be awful, death's the road
That leads to better life and blifs,
That must conduct thee to thy God.

3

Then calmly to his will I bow;

That I have lived, my thanks demands;
That I must die, is not my woe,
While life and death are in his hands.

XXXI. PSALM XVII. Long M. WATTS.

The Profpects of a good Man contrafted with the hopeless State of the Sinner.

Ι

2

L

ORD, I am thine; and thou wilt prove My faith, my patience, and my love; Though worldly men to wound me join, They are the fword, the hand is thine.

Their hope and portion lies below; 'Tis all the happiness they know,

'Tis all they feek; they take their shares, And leave the reft among their heirs.

3

4

5

What finners value, I refign;

Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine;
I fhall behold thee face to face,

And ftand complete in righteousness.

This life's a dream, an empty show; But the bright world, to which I go, Hath joys fubftantial and fincere; When fhall I wake, and find me there?

O glorious hour! O bleft abode ! I fhall be near and like my God! And flesh and fin no more control. The facred pleasures of my foul.

XXXII. PSALM XVII. Com. M. STEELE.

The Bleffedness of the Divine Prefence with us.

MY

Y God, the vifits of thy love
Afford a purer joy,

Than all the flattering world can give,
Without the world's alloy.

2 But clouds and darknefs intervene ;
My brightest joys decline,
And earth's gay trifles oft enfnare
This wandering heart of mine.

3 Oh guide this wandering heart to thee
Unfatisfied I ftray:

Break through the shades of fenfe and fin
With thy enlivening ray.

4 May all thy glory round me fhine,

And every cloud remove;

Renew my heart, and fit my
For happier scenes above.

foul

PSALM

I

XXXIII.

Y

PSALM XVII. Com. Met.

The fame.

E wretched flaves of this world's blifs,
To brutal natures lowered,

How mean your best enjoyment is!
How poor is your reward!

2 And thou, ambition's bloated fon,
Thou thing of pride and power!
The joys, which thou haft dearly won,
Fears and remorfe devour.

3 But many a bitter curse
a bitter curfe ye spread
Amongst your fellow men;
And virtue fcarce can lift her head
Beneath your cruel reign.

4 Yet though this life were all of man,
And hope were but a dream;
Virtue would still reject your plan,
And still her own efteem.

5 The wisdom, which this world defigned,
Defigned no bliss for you;

While pleasures, proper to the mind,
The path of virtue ftrew.

6 But this is not the whole of man,
Nor is his hope a dream;
He trufts in a well-ordered plan,
Which tends to blifs fupreme.

PSALM