And long thy kingdom fhall endure e; 3 But man, weak man is born to die 4 [A thousand of our years amount PAUSE. Death tike an overflowing fream, 6 [Our age to fev'nty years is fet: We rather figh and groan than live. 7 But Oh! how oft thy writh appears, Thy wrath awakes our humbie dread: Fit us to die and dwell with thee.. PSALM XC. Fir Part. Com, metre. UR God, our help in ages paft, Our Thelter from the ftormy blast, 2 Under the fhadow of thy throne, Sufficient is thine arm alone, 3 Before the hills in order (tood, Or earth receiv'd her frame, From everlasting thou art Ged, To endlefs years the fame. 4 Thy word commands our flesh to duft, All nations rofe from earth at first, 5 A thousand ages in Thy fight Short as the watch which ends the night 6 [The bufy tribes of flesh and blood, 7 Time, like an ever-rolling stream, 8 Like flow'ry fields the nations ftand, 9 Our God, our help in ages paft, Our hope for years to come t Be thou our guard while troubles laft, PSALM XC. Second part. Infirmities and mortality the effect of fin; or, Life, old age, and preparation for Death. LORD, if thine eyes furvey our faults, Thy dreadful wrath exceeds our thoughts 2 Thine anger turns our frame to dust ; 3 Life, like a vain amusement, flies, By fwift degrees our nature dies, 'Tis but a few whofe days amount [Our vitals, with labor'ous ftrife, 6 Almighty God, revcal thy love. Our fouls would learn the heav'nly art PSALM XC. Third Part. Breathing after Heaven. RETURN, O God of love, return! Earth is a tirefome place : How long fhall we thy children mourn Our abfence from thy face? 2 Let heav'n fucceed our painful years: Let fin and forrow ceafe: Let mercy wipe away our tears, 3 Thy wonders to thy fervants fhow: 4 Then fhall we fhine, before thy throne, PSALM XC. Short metre. LORD what a feeble piece Is this our mortai frame! 2 Alas the brittle elay Which built our body firft! And ev'ry month, and ev'ry day 'Tis moulding back to duft. 3 Our moments fly a pace, Nor will our minutes ftay; Juft like a flood, our hafty days Are fweeping us away. 4 Well, if our days muft fly, We'll keep their end in fight: 5 They'll waft us fooner o'er This life's tempeft'ous fea : PSALM XC1. First part. Long metre. TE HE who hath made his refuge. God. Shall walk all day beneath his fhade, 2 Then will i fay," My God, thy pow'r Thrice happy man! thy Maker's care Shall keep me from the fowler's fhare! Satan, the towier, who betrays Unguarded fouis, a thousand ways. 4 Juft as a hen protects her brood (From birds of prey which feek their blood) Urder her feathers; b, the Lord Makes his Own Arm his people's guard. 5 If burning beams of noon confpire. To dart a peftilential fire, God is their life; is Wings are fpread PAUSE. 7 What though a thousand at thy fide, 9 But, if the fire, or plague or fvor 1, |