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“ The wond'ring world shall learn thy grace, Thy wisdom and thy righteousness.

PSALM 41. L. M.

Charity to the poor. 1 LEST is the man whose bowels move,

And melt with pity to the poor ; Whose soul, by sympathising love,

Feels what his fellow saints endure. 2 His heart contrives, for their relief,

More good than his own hands can do:
He, in the time of gen’ral grief,

Shall find the Lord has bowels too. 3 His soul shall live secure on earth,

With secret blessings on his head ;
When drought, and pestilence, and dearth,

Around him multiply their dead. 4 Or, if he languish on his couch,

God will pronounce his sins forgiv'n;
Will save him with a healing touch,
Or take his willing soul to heay’n.
PSALM 42. First Part. C. M.

Desertion and hope. 1

When heated in the chase;
So longs my soul, O God, for thee,

And thy refreshing grace.
2 For thee, my God, the living God,

My thirsty soul doth pine :
0! when shall I behold thy face,

Thou majesty divine ?
3 Tears are my constant food, while thus

Insulting foes upbraid ;
“ Deluded wretch! where is thy God?

“ And where his promis'd aid ?”

A pants the bart for cooling streams,

4. 'Tis with a mournful pleasure now

I think on ancient days ;
Then to thy house did numbers go,

And all our work was praise.
5 But why's my soul sunk down so far

Beneath this heavy load ?
Why do my thoughts indulge despair,

And sin against my God ?
6 Hope in the Lord, whose mighty hand,

Can all thy woes remove :
For I shall yet before him stand,
And sing restoring love.
PSALM 42. Second Part. L. M.

Hope in affliction.

Y spirit sinks within me, Lord,

But I will call thy name to mind;
And times of past distress record,

When I have found my God was kind. 2 Hugh troubles with tumultuous noise

Swell like a sea, and round me spread ;
Thy water-spouts drown all my joys,
And rising waves roll o'er my

3 Yet will the Lord command his love,

When I address his throne by day,
Nor in the night his grace remove :

The night shall hear me sing and pray. 4 I'll cast myself before his feet, And say, " My God, my heav'nly Rock!

Why doth thy love so long forget “ The soul, that groans beneath thy stroke?' 5 I'll chide my heart that sinks so low;

Why should my soul indulge her grief?
Hope in the Lord, and praise him too ;
He is my rest, my sure relief,

6 Thy light and truth shall guide me still :

Thy word shall my best thoughts employ ;
And lead me to thine heav'nly hill,
My God, my most exceeding joy.

PSALM 43. P. M.

Complaint mingled with hope.
My God, defend my cause

Against a host of foes :
O! save me from th' unjust,
Who triumph in my woes.

Why dost thou faint,
My trembling heart?
To God impart

Thy sad complaint.
2 Why dost thou, O my shield,

Desert me thus forlorn ?
Why, hated and oppress'd,
Thus bid me ceaseless mourn?

To God I fly;
In God I'll trust,
When low in dust

My head shall lie.
3 Now to thy sacred house
With joy direct


Where saints, with morning vows,
In full assembly meet.

Thy power divine
Shall there be shown,
And from thy throne

Thy mercy shine.
4 O! send thy light abroad :

Thy truth with heav'nly ray
Shall lead my soul to God;
And guide my doubtful way.

I'll hear thy word
With faith sincere,
And learn to fear

And praise the Lord.
5 There reach thy bounteous hand,

And all my sorrows heal;
There health and strength divine
0! make my bosom feel.

Like balmy dew,
Shall Jesus' voice
My bones rejoice,

My strength renew. 6 Then in thy holy hill,

Before thine altar, Lord,
My harp and song shall sound
The glories of thy word.

Henceforth to thee,
O God of grace,
A hymn of praise

My life shall be.
7 My soul, awake to joy,

And triumph in the Lord,
My health, my hope, my song,
And my divine reward.

Ye fears remove ;
No more I mourn ;
But blest, return
To sing his love.

PSALM 44. C. M.
The Church's complaint in persecution.
LORD, we have heard thy works of old

Thy works of pow'r and grace ; When to our ears our fathers told

The wonders of their days :

2 How thou did'st build thy churches here,

And make thy gospel known; Among them did thine arm appear,

Thy light and glory shone. 3 In God they boasted all the day,

And in a cheerful throng Did thousands meet to praise and pray,

And grace was all their song. 4 But now our souls are seiz'd with shame,

Confusion fills our face ;
To hear the enemy blaspheme,

And fools reproach thy grace.
5 Yet have we not forgot our God,

Nor falsely dealt with heav'n ;
Nor have our steps declin'd the road

Of duty thou hast giv’n.
6 Tho' dragons all around us roar,

With their destruetive breath; And thine own hand has bruis'd us sore,

Hard by the gates of death. 7 We are expos'd all day to die,

As martyrs for thy cause ;
As sheep for slaughter, bound we lie,

By sharp and bloody laws.
8 Awake, arise, Almighty Lord !
Why sleeps thy wonted


? Why should we look like men abhorr'd

Or banish'd from thy face? 9 Wilt thou forever cast us off,

And still neglect our cries ? For ever hide thy heav'nly love

From our afflicted eyes ? 10 Down to the dust our souls are bow'd

And lie upon the ground;

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