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Such as he kindled on the plain
Of Sodom, with his angry breath.
6 The righteous Lord loves righteous fouls,
Whofe thoughts and actions are fincere,
And with a gracious eye beholds

The men who his own image bear.

PSALM XII. Long Metre.


The faints' fafety and hope in evil times; or, fins of the tongue complained of, viz. blafphemy, falfehood, &c. 1 ORD, if thou doft not foon appear, Virtue and truth will flee away :

A faithful man among us here Will fcarce be found, if thou delay. 2 The whole difcourfe, when neighbours meet, Is fill'd with trifles loofe and vain; Their lips are flattery and deceit, And their proud language is profane. 3 But lips that with deceit abound Shall not maintain their triumph long: The God of vengeance will confound The flattering and blafpheming tongue. 4"Yet fhall our words be free," they cry, "Our tongues fhall be controll'd by none: "Where is the Lord will afk us why? "Or fay our lips are not our own ?" 5 The Lord, who fees the poor opprefs'd, And hears th' oppreffor's haughty ftrain, Will rife to give his children reft, Nor fhall they truft his word in vain. 6 Thy word, O Lord, though often try'd, Void of deceit fhall ftill appear; Not filver, feven times purify'd

From drofs and mixture, fhines fo clear. 7 Thy grace fhall, in the darkest hour, Defend the holy foul from harm; Though when the vileft men have power, On every fide will finners fwarm.

PSALM XII. Common Metre. [b] Complaint of a general corruption of manners; or, the promife and figns of Chrift's coming to judgment.

1HE ELP, Lord, for men of virtue fail;

Religion lofes ground!

The fons of violence prevail,

And treacheries abound.

2 Their oaths and promifes they break,
Yet act the flatterer's part;
With fair deceitful lips they fpeak,
And with a double heart.

3 If we reprove fome hateful lie,
How is their fury stirr'd!
"Are not our lips our own," they cry,
"And who fhall be our Lord."

4 Scoffers appear on every fide,
Where a vile race of men

Is rais'd to feats of power and pride,
And bear the fword in vain.

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5 Lord, when iniquities abound,
And blafphemy grows bold,
When faith is hardly to be found,
And love is waxing cold;

6 Is not thy chariot haftening on?
Haft thou not given the fign?
May we not truft and live upon
A promife fo divine?


Yes, faith the Lord, now will I rife,
"And make oppreffors flee;

"I fhall appear to their furprife,

"And fet my fervants free."

8 Thy word, like filver feven times try'd,
Through ages fhall endure:

The men who in thy truth confide
Shall find thy promise fure.

PSALM XIII. Long Metre. [b]

Pleading with God under defertion; or, hope in darkness.


OW long, O Lord, fhall I complain,
Like one who feeks his God in vain ?

Canft thou thy face forever hide,

And I ftill pray and be deny'd ?

2 Shall I forever be forgot,

As one whom thou regardeft not?
Still fhall my foul thy abfence_mourn?
And fill defpair of thy return?

3 How long fhall my poor troubled breaft Be with these anxious thoughts opprefs'd? And Satan, my malicious foe,

Rejoice to fee me funk fo low?

4 Hear, Lord, and grant me quick relief,
Before my death concludes my grief;
If thou withhold'ft thy heavenly light,
I fleep in everlafling night.

5 How will the powers of darkness boaft,
If but one praying foul be loft !
But I have trufted in thy grace,
And shall again behold thy face.
6 Whate'er my fears or foes fuggeft,
Thou art my hope, my joy, my reft;
My heart fhall feel thy love, and raife
My cheerful voice to fongs of praife.

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PSALM XIII. Common Metre. [b]
Complaint under temptations of the devil.
WOW long wilt thou conceal thy face?
My God, how long delay ?


When fhall I feel thofe heavenly rays
Which chafe my fears away?

2 How long fhall my poor lab'ring foul
Wrestle and toil in vain ?

Thy word can all my foes control,
Ánd ease my raging pain.

3 See how the prince of darkness tries
All his malicious arts;

He spreads a mist around my eyes,
And throws his fiery darts.

4 Be thou my fun, be thou my fhield;
My foul in fafety keep;

Make hafte, before mine eyes are feal'd
In death's eternal fleep.

5 How would the tempter boast aloud
If I become his prey!

Behold the fons of hell grow proud
At thy fo long delay.

6 But they fhall fly at thy rebuke,
And Satan hide his head :

He knows the terrors of thy look,
And hears thy voice with dread

7 Thou wilt difplay that fovereign grace
Where all my hopes have hung;
I fhall employ my lips in praife,"
And victory fhall be fung.

PSALM XIV. 1ft Part. Common Metre. [b]
By nature all men are finners.

1 FOOLS in their hearts believe and fay, all religion's vain;

"There is no God that reigns on high, "Or minds th' affairs of men."

2 From thoughts fo dreadful and profane
Corrupt difcourfe proceeds;

And in their impious hands are found
Abominable deeds.

3 The Lord, from his celeftial throne,
Look'd down on things below,
To find the man that fought his grace,
Or did his juftice know.

4 By nature all are gone aftray;
Their practice all the fame :

There's none that fears his Maker's hand,
There's none that loves his name.

5 Their tongues are us'd to fpeak deceit;
Their flanders never ceafe;

How fwift to mifchief are their feet!
Nor know the paths of peace.

6 Such feeds of fin (that bitter root)
In every heart are found;

Nor can they bear diviner fruit,

Till grace refine the ground.

PSALM XIV. 2d Part. Common Metre. [b]



The folly of perfecutors.

RE finners now fo fenfelefs grown,
That they the faints devour;

And never worship at thy throne,
Nor fear thine awful power?

2 Great God! appear to their furprise,
Reveal thy dreadful name!

Let them no more thy wrath despise,
Nor turn our hope to fhame.

3 Doft thou not dwell among the juft?
And yet our foes deride,

That we should make thy name our trust:
Great God! confound their pride.

4 O that the joyful day were come,
To finish our diftrefs!

When God fhall bring his children home,
Our fongs fhall never cease.

PSALM XV. Common Metre. [*] Characters of a faint; or, a citizen of Zion; or, the qualifications of a Chriftian.



HO' fhall inhabit in thy hill,
O God of holiness?

Whom will the Lord admit to dwell
So near his throne of grace?

2 The man that walks in pious ways,
And works with righteous hands,
That trufts his Maker's promifes,
And follows his commands.

3 He fpeaks the meaning of his heart,
Nor flanders with his tongue;
Will fcarce believe an ill report,
Nor do his neighbour wrong.
4 The wealthy finner he contemns,
Loves all that fear the Lord;
And though to his own hurt he swears,
Still he performs his word.

His hands difdain a golden bribe,

And never gripe the poor:

This man fhall dwell with God on earth,
And find his heaven fecure.

PSALM XV. Long Metre. [*]

Religion and juftice, goodness and truth; or, duties to God and man; or, the qualifications of a Chriftian. HO fhall afcend thy heavenly place,



Great God, and dwell before thy face? The man that minds religion now,

And humbly walks with God below:
Whofe hands are pure, whofe heart is clean,
Whofe lips ftill fpeak the thing they mean;
No flanders dwell upon his tongue;
He hates to do his neighbour wrong.
3 [Scarce will he truft an ill report,
Nor vent it to his neighbour's hurt:

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