e 2 Tird 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. 04 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.
1 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 ýe try,

To turn my glory into shame;
€ 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.. IT ORD, thou wilt hear me when I pray;

I I am for ever thine ;

Tow long Woroach my divides his.

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. iT ORD, in the morning thou shalt hear

U 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. 04 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.

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. 1 TN anger, Lord, rebuke me not;

Nor let thy fury burn so hot,

Against a feeble worm. p 2 My soul's bow'd down with heavy cares,

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.
0 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[T 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.

66 Westores graves Pn in de

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]

God's Care of his People against Persecutors. 1 M Y trust is in my heavenly Friend,

N1 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.
- 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. 0 5 Arise, my God, lift up thy hand,

Their pride and power control; Awake to judgment, and command

Deliv'rance for my soul.

is

**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 ? - 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 :
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.
2 When to thy works on high,

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 ? & Next to thine angels is he plac'd,

And lord of all below.
5 Thine honours crown his head,

While beasts like slaves obey,
And birds that cut the air with wings,

And fish that cleave the sea. 06 How rich' thy bounties are !

And wondrous are thy ways.