u 4 For ever blessed be the Lord,
Who broke the fowler's cursed snare;
Who sav'd us from the murd'ring sword,
And made our lives and souls his care.

g 5 Our help is in Jehovah's name,

Who form'd the earth, and built the skies
He, who upholds that wondrous frame,
Guards his own church with watchful eyes.

PSALM 125. C. M. Mear. [*]
The Saint's Trial and Safety.

1 UNSHAKEN as the sacred hill,

And firm as mountains be ;

Firm as a rock the soul shall rest,
That leans, O Lord, on thee.

2 Not walls, nor hills, could guard so well Old Salem's happy ground,

As those eternal arms of love,
That ev'ry saint surround.

e 3 While tyrants are a smarting scourge,
To drive them near to God;

e Divine compassion does allay The fury of the rod

p 4 Deal gently, Lord, with souls sincere, And lead them safely on,

To the bright gates of Paradise,

Where Christ their Lord is gone.

-5 But, if we trace those crooked ways, That the old serpent drew;

e The wrath, that drove him first to hell, Shall smite his followers too.]

FIR

S. M. Watchman. [*]
The Saint's Trial and Safety.
IRM and unmov'd are they,
Who rest their souls on God;
Firm as the mount where David dwelt,
Or where the ark abode.

-2 As mountains stood to guard
The city's sacred ground;

So God and his almighty love
Embrace his saints around.

€ 3 What though the Father's rod
Drop a chastising stroke;

Yet, lest it wound their souls too deep,
Its fury shall be broke.

p 4 Deal gently, Lord, with those,
Whose faith and pious fear-
Whose hope, and love, and ev'ry grace,
Proclaim their hearts sincere.

-5 Nor shall the tyrant's rage
Too long oppress the saint;
o The God of Israel will support
His children, lest they faint.
But if our slavish fear

e 6

Will choose the road to hell,

a We must expect our portion there, Where bolder sinners dwell.

1

PSALM 126. L. M. Green's. [*]
Surprising Deliverance.

THEN God restor'd our captive state,

W Joy was our song, and grace our theme;

The grace, beyond our hope so great,
That joy appear'd a painted dream.
2 The scoffer owns thy hand, and pays
Unwilling honours to thy name;

While we, with pleasure, shout thy praise-
With cheerful notes, thy love proclaim
3 When we review our dismal fears,
'Twas hard to think they'd vanish so:
With God we left our flowing tears;
He makes our joys like rivers flow.
4 The man, that, in his furrow'd field,
His scatter'd seed with sadness leaves,
Will shout to see the harvest yield
A welcome load of joyful sheaves.]

1

C. M. Sunday. Swanwick. [*]
A remarkable Display, of Divine Grace.

WH
WHEN God reveal'd his gracious name,

And chang'd my mournful state, u My rapture seem'd a pleasing dream,

The grace appear'd so great.

-2 The world beheld the glorious change, And did thy hand confess;

o My tongue broke out in unknown strains, And sung surprising grace

d 3'Great is the work!' my neighbours cry'd, And own'd thy power divine;

"Great is the work!' my heart reply'd, 'And be the glory thine.'

o 4 The Lord can clear the darkest skies,
Can give us day for night;

Make drops of sacred sorrow rise
To rivers of delight.

-5 Let those, who sow in sadness, wait
Till the fair harvest come;

They shall confess their sheaves are great,
And shout the blessings home.

-6 Though seed lie buried long in dust,
It sha'n't deceive their hope;

• The precious grain can ne'er be lost, For grace ensures the crop.

1

PSALM 127. L. M. Portugal. [*]
Success and Happiness from God.
God succeed not, all the cost,

IF

And pains, to build the house, are lost; If God the city will not keep,

The watchful guards as well may sleep.
2 What if you rise before the sun,
And work and toil when day is done;
Careful and sparing eat your bread,
To shun that poverty you dread ;-
3 'Tis all in vain, till God hath blest :
He can make rich, yet give us rest;
Children and friends are blessings too,
If God our sovereign make them so.
4 Happy the man, to whom he sends
Obedient children, faithful fiiends:
How sweet our daily comforts prove,
When they are season'd with his love!
C. M. Plymouth. [*]

1

God all in all.

F God to build the house deny, The builders work in vain; And towns, without his wakeful eye, An useless watch maintain.

2 Before the morning beams arise, Your painful work renew;

And, till the stars ascend the skies,
Your tiresome toil pursue :

3 Short be your sleep, and coarse your fare,
In vain, till God has blest:
But if his smiles attend your care,
You shall have food and rest.

4 Nor children, relatives, nor friends,
Will real blessings prove,
Nor all the earthly joys he sends,
If sent without his love.]

PSALM 128. C. M. Devizes. [*]
Family Blessings.

10 HAPPY man, whose soul is fill'd

With zeal and rev'rend awe!

His lips to God their honours yield,
His life adorns the law.

2 A careful providence will stand,
And ever guard thy head;
Will on the labours of thy hand
Its kindly blessings shed.

3 Thy wife shall be a fruitful vine;
Thy children round thy board,
Each like a plant of honour shine,
And learn to fear the Lord.

4 The Lord will thy best hopes fulfil,
For months and years to come;
The Lord, who dwells on Zion's hill,
Will send the blessings home.
5 This is the man, whose happy eyes
Shall see his house increase;
Shall see the sinking church arise,
Then leave the world in peace.

1

PSALM 129. C. M. Mear. [*]
Persecutors punished.

UP from my youth, may Israel say,

Have I been nurs'd in tears;

My griefs were constant as the day,
And tedious as the years.

2 Up from my youth, I bore the rage
Of all the sons of strife;

Oft they assail'd my riper age,
But not destroy'd my life

3 Their cruel plough hath torn my flesh,
With furrows long and deep;
Hourly they vex'd my wounds afresh ;
Nor let my sorrows sleep.

4 The Lord grew angry on his throne,
And, with impartial eye,

Measur'd the mischiefs they had done,
And let his arrows fly.

5 How was their insolence surpris'd
To hear his thunders roll!
And all the foes of Zion seiz'd

With horrour to the soul.

6 Thus shall the men, who hate the saints,
Be blasted from the sky;
Their glory fades, their courage faints,
And all their projects die.

7 [What though they flourish tall and fair,
They have no root beneath :

Their growth shall perish in despair,
And lie despis'd in death.

8 So corn that on the house-top stands,
No hope of harvest gives;
The reaper ne'er shall fill his hands,
Nor binder fold the sheaves.

9 It springs and withers on the place :
No traveller bestows

A word of blessing on the grass,

Nor minds it as he goes.]

PSALM 130. C. M. Abridge. Sunday. [*] Fardoning Grace.

e10 The borders of despair,

UT of the deps of long distress,

I sent my cries to seek thy grace,-
My groans to move thine ear.

a 2 Great God, should thy severer eye,
And thine impartial hand,

Mark and revenge iniquity,

No mortal flesh could stand.

-3 But there are pardons with my God,
For crimes of high degree;

Thy Son has bought them with his blood,
To draw us near to thee.