e 2 Tir'd with the burdens of the day, 'To thee I rais'd an ev'ning cry:

Thou heard'st when I began to pray,
And thine almighty help was nigh.

-3 Supported by thy heav'nly aid,
I laid me down, and slept secure ;
Not death should make my heart afraid,
Though I should wake and rise no more.
0 4 But God sustain'd me all the night :
Salvation doth to God belong:

He rais'd my head to see the light,
And make his praise my morning song.

PSALM 4. L. M. Green's. Islington. [b] Ver. 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 7.—God our Portion, and Christ our Hope.

GOD of grace and righteousness,

Hear and attend, when I complain;

Thou hast enlarg'd me in distress,
Bow down a gracious ear again.

2 Ye sons of men, in vain ye try, To turn my glory into shame;

e How long will scoffers love to lie,

And dare reproach my Saviour's name? d 3 Know that the Lord divides his saints From all the tribes of men beside:

e He hears the cry of penitents,

For the dear sake of Christ who dy'd.
-4 When our obedient hands have done
A thousand works of righteousness,
o We put our trust in God alone,
And glory in his pard'ning grace.
-5 Let the unthinking many say,

e "Who will bestow some earthly good?"
-But, Lord, thy light and love we pray;
Our souls desire this heavenly food.
s 6 Then will my cheerful powers rejoice,
At grace and favours so divine:

Nor will I change my happy choice,
For all their corn, and all their wine.

C. M. Barby. York. [*]

Ver. 3, 4, 5, 8.—An Evening Psalm.

ORD, thou wilt hear me when I pray ;
I am for ever thine;

I fear before thee all the day,
Nor would I dare to sin.

e 2 And while I rest my weary head,
From cares and business free,
'Tis sweet conversing on my bed,
With my own heart and thee.
-3 I pay this ev'ning sacrifice:
And when my work is done,
Great God, my faith, my hope relies
Upon thy grace alone.

4 Thus with my thoughts compos'd to peace,
I'll give mine eyes to sleep;
Thy hand in safety keeps my days,
And will my slumbers keep.

PSALM 5. C. M. Reading. Sunday. [b]

For the Lord's Day Morning.

ORD, in the morning thou shalt hear

'L My voice ascending high;

To thee will I direct my prayer,

To thee lift up mine eye.

2 Up to the hills where Christ is gone,
To plead for all his saints,
Presenting at his Father's throne
Our songs and our complaints.

e 3 Thou art a God, before whose sight
The wicked shall not stand;
Sinners shall ne'er be thy delight,
Nor dwell at thy right hand.

o 4 But to thy house will I resort,
To taste thy mercies there;

I will frequent thy holy court,
And worship in thy fear.

-5 O may thy Spirit guide my feet,
In ways of righteousness;
Make ev'ry path of duty straight,
And plain before my face.

PAUSE.

6 [My watchful enemies combine,
To tempt my feet astray;
They flatter with a base design,
To make my soul their prey.

7 Lord, crush the serpent in the dust,
And all his plots destroy;

While those that in thy mercy trust,
For ever shout for joy.

8 The men who love and fear thy name,
Shall see their hopes fulfill'd·

The mighty God will compass them,
With favour as a shield.]

PSALM 6. C. M. Wantage. [b]
Complaint in Sickness: or Diseases healed.
N anger, Lord, rebuke me not;
Withdraw the dreadful storm:

1 IN

Nor let thy fury burn so hot,

Against a feeble worm.

p 2 My soul's bow'd down with heavy cares,
My flesh with pain oppress'd:

My couch is witness to my tears,
My tears forbid my rest.

3 Sorrow and pain wear out my days;
I waste the night with cries,
Counting the minutes as they pass,
'Till the slow morning rise.

4 Shall I be still tormented more?
Mine eyes consum'd with grief;
How long, my God, how long, before
Thine hand afford relief?

-5 He hears when dust and ashes speak:
He pities all our groans;
He saves us for his mercy's sake,
And heals our broken bones.

o 6 The virtue of his sovereign word
Restores our fainting breath:

e For silent graves praise not the Lord, Nor is he known in death.

L. M. Dresden. Pleyel's. [b]

Temptations in Sickness overcome.

1[LORD, Ica with

ORD, I can suffer thy rebukes,

When thou with kindness doth chastise;

But thy fierce wrath I cannot bear,

O let it not against me rise.

2 Pity my languishing estate,

And ease the sorrows that I feel;
The wounds thine heavy hand hath made;
O let thy gentler touches heal.

3 See how I pass my weary days,
In sighs and groans; and when 'tis night,
My bed is water'd with my tears;
My grief consumes and dims my sight.
4 Look, how the pow'rs of nature mourn!
How long, Almighty God, how long?
When will thine hour of grace return?
When shall I make thy grace my song?
5 I feel my flesh so near the grave,
My thoughts are tempted to despair;
But graves can never praise the Lord.
For all is dust and silence there.

6 Depart, ye tempters, from my soul,
And all despairing thoughts depart;
My God, who hears my humble moan,
Will ease my flesh, and cheer my heart.]
PSALM 7. C. M. Bedford. [b]

1

God's Care of his People against Persecutors.
Y

My trust is in my heavenly Friend,

My hope in thee, my God:
o Rise, and my helpless life defend,
From those who seek my blood.
d 2 With insolence and fury they
My soul in pieces tear :

As hungry lions rend the prey,
When no deliv'rer 's near.

-3 If I have e'er provok'd them first,
Or once abus❜d my foe;

Then let him tread my life to dust,
And lay mine honour low.

e 4 If there were malice found in me,
(I know thy piercing eyes,)

I should not dare appeal to thee,
Nor ask my God to rise.

o 5 Arise, my God, lift up thy hand,
Their pride and power control;
Awake to judgment, and command
Deliv'rance for my soul.

PAUSE.

d [6 Let sinners, and their wicked rage,
Be humbled to the dust

Will not the God of truth engage
To vindicate the just?

7 He knows the heart, he tries the reins,
He will defend th' upright;
His sharpest arrows he ordains,
Against the sons of spite.

8 For me their malice dug a pit,
But there themselves are cast;
My God makes all their mischief light
On their own heads at last.

e 9 That cruel persecuting race

Must feel his dreadful sword:

o Awake, my soul, and praise the grace,
And justice of the Lord.]

PSALM 8. S. M. St. Thomas. [*]
God's Condescension in conferring Honour upon Man.
LORD, our heavenly King,
Thy name is all divine;

Thy glories round the earth are spread,
And o'er the heavens they shine.
When to thy works on high,

2

I raise my wond'ring eyes,

And see the moon complete in light,
Adorn the darksome skies ;-

3

When I survey the stars,
And all their shining forms,

Lord, what is man, that worthless thing,
Akin to dust and worms?

4 Lord what is worthless man; That thou should'st love him so?

g Next to thine angels is he plac'd, And lord of all below.

--5 Thine honours crown his head, While beasts like slaves obey,

0 6

And birds that cut the air with wings,
And fish that cleave the sea.
How rich thy bounties are!
And wondrous are thy ways.