3 My heart did glow, which working thoughts Did hot and restless make;

And warm reflections fann'd the fire,
Till thus at length I spake :
4 Lord, let me know my term of days,
How soon my life will end;
The num'rous train of ills disclose,
Which this frail state attend.

5 My life, thou know'st, is but a span,
A cipher sums my years;
And ev'ry man, in best estate,
But vanity appears.

6 Man like a shadow vainly walks,
With fruitless cares oppress'd;
He heaps up wealth, but cannot tell
By whom 'twill be possess'd.

7 Why then should I on worthless toys With anxious care attend?

On thee alone my steadfast hope
Shall ever, Lord, depend.

8, 9 Forgive my sins, nor let me scorn'd
By foolish sinners he;

For I was dumb, and murmur'd not,
Because 'twas done by thee.

10 The dreadful burden of thy wrath
In mercy soon remove;
Lest my frail flesh too weak to bear
The heavy load should prove.

11 For when thou chast'nest man for sin
Thou mak'st his beauty fade,
(So vain a thing is he,) like cloth
By fretting moths decay'd.

12 Lord, hear my cry, accept my tears,
And listen to my pray❜r;
Who sojourn like a stranger here,
As all my fathers were.

13 O spare me yet a little time,
My wasted strength restore;
Before I vanish quite from hence,
And shall be seen no more.

PSALM XL.

Waited meekly for the Lord,
Till he vouchsaf'd a kind reply;
Who did his gracious ear afford,

And heard from heav'n my humble cry.

זי

2 He took me from the dismal pit,

When founder'd deep in miry clay;
On solid ground he plac'd my feet,

And suffer'd not my steps to stray.

3 The wonders he for me has wrought
Shall fill my mouth with songs of praise;
And others, to his worship brought,

To hopes of like deliv'rance raise.
4 For blessings shall that man reward,
Who on th' Almighty Lord relies;
Who treats the proud with disregard,

And hates the hypocrite's disguise.
5 Who can the wondrous works recount,
Which thou, O God, for us hast wrought!
The treasures of thy love surmount

The pow'r of numbers, speech, and thought. 6 I've learnt, that thou hast not desir'd Off'rings and sacrifice alone; Nor blood of guiltless beasts requir'd For man's transgression to atone. 7 I therefore come-come to fulfil

The oracles thy books impart : 8 'Tis my delight to do thy will;

Thy law is written in my heart.
The Second Part,

9 In full assemblies I have told

Thy truth and righteousness at large;
Nor did, thou know'st, my lips withhold

From utt'ring what thou gav'st in charge. 10 Nor kept within my breast confin'd

Thy faithfulness and saving grace;
But preach'd thy love, for all design'd,

That all might that and truth embrace.
Then let those mercies I declar'd

To others, Lord, extend to me;
Thy lovingkindness my reward,

Thy truth my safe protection be. 12 For I with troubles am distress'd,

Too vast and numberless to bear;
Nor less with loads of guilt oppress'd,

That plunge and sink me to despair. 13 As soon, alas! may I recount

The hairs on this afflicted head:
My vanquish'd courage they surmount,
And fill my drooping soul with dread.
The Third Part.

14 But, Lord, to my relief draw near,
For never was more pressing need!
In my deliv'rance, Lord, appear,

And add to that deliv'rance speed. 15 Confusion on their heads return,

Who to destroy my soul combine;
Let them, defeated, blush and mourn,
Eusnar'd in their own vile design.

16 Their doom let desolation be,

With shame their malice be repaid, Who mock'd my confidence in thee, And sport of my affliction made: 17 While those, who humbly seek thy face, To joyful triumphs shall be rais'd; And all who prize thy saving grace

With me resound, The Lord be prais'd. 18 Thus, wretched though I am and poor, Of me th' Almighty Lord takes care; Thou, God, who only canst restore, To my relief with speed repair.

PSALM XLI.

HAPPY the man whose tender care
Relieves the poor distrest:

When he's by trouble compass'd round
The Lord shall give him rest.

2 The Lord his life, with blessings crown'd, In safety shall prolong;

And disappoint the will of those
That seek to do him wrong.

3 If he, in languishing estate,

Oppress'd with sickness lie;
The Lord will easy make his bed,

And inward strength supply. 4 Secure of this, to thee, my God, I thus my pray'r address'd : "Lord, for thy mercy, heal ray soul, "Though I have much transgress'd." 5 My cruel foes, with sland'rous words, Attempt to wound my fame; "When shall he die, (say they,) and men "Forget his very name?"

6 Suppose they formal visits make,
Tis all but empty show,

They gather mischief in their hearts,
And vent it where they go.

7, 8 With private whispers such as these
To hurt me they devise:
"A sore disease afflicts him now,
"He's fall'n no more to rise."
9 My own familiar bosom friend,
On whom I most relied,
Has me, whose daily guest he was,
With open scorn defied.

10 But thou my sad and wretched state
In mercy, Lord, regard;
And raise me up, that all their crimes

May meet their just reward.

# D

PSALM

XLII.

1

AS
S pants the hart for cooling streams,
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:
O! when shall I behold thy face,
Thou Majesty divine!

3 Tears are my constant food, while thus
Insulting foes upbraid:

"Delnded wretch! where's now thy God?
"And where his promis'd aid?"

4 I sigh whene'er my musing thoughts
Those happy days present,
When I with troops of pious friends
Thy temple did frequent:

When I advanc'd with songs of praise
My solemn vows to pay,
And led the joyful sacred throng,
That kept the festal day.

5 Why restless, why cast down, my soul?
Trust God, and he'll employ

His aid for thee, and change these sighs
To thankful hymns of joy.

6 My soul's cast down, O

but thinks

On thee and Sion still;
From Jordan's bank, from Hermon's heights,
And Mizar's humbler hill.

7 One trouble calls another on,

And bursting o'er my head,
Fall spouting down, till round my soul
A roaring sea is spread.

8 But when thy presence, Lord of life,
Has once dispell'd this storm,
To thee I'll midnight anthems sing,
And all my vows perform.

9 God of my strength, how long shall 1,
Like one forgotten, mourn!
Forlorn, forsaken, and expos'd
To my oppressor's scorn.

to My heart is pierc'd, as with a sword, Whilst thus my foes upbraid,

"Vain boaster, where is now thy God? "And where his promis'd aid?" 11 Why restless, why cast down, my soul? Hope still, and thou shalt sing The praise of him who is thy God, Thy health's eternal spring.

PSALM XLIII.

1

JUST Judge of heav'n, against my foes
Do thou assert my injur'd right;
O set me free, my God, from those

That in deceit and wrong delight. 2 Since thou art still my only stay,

Why leav'st thou me in deep distress? Why go I mourning all the day,

Whilst me insulting foes oppress! 3 Let me with light and truth be blest, Be these my guides, and lead the way, Till on thy holy hill I rest,

And in thy sacred temple pray. 4 Then will I there fresh altars raise To God, who is my only joy;

And well-tun'd harps, with songs of praise, Shall all my grateful hours employ. 5 Why then cast down, my soul? and why So much opprest with anxious care? On God, thy God, for aid rely, Who will thy ruin'd state repair.

PSALM XLIV.

10

Lord, our fathers oft have told
In our attentive ears,

Thy wonders in their days perform'd,
And elder times than theirs:

2 How thou, to plant them here, didst drive
The heathen from this land;
Dispeopled by repeated strokes
Of thy avenging hand.

3 For, not their courage, nor their sword, To them possession gave;

Nor strength, that from unequal force
Their fainting troops could save:
But thy right hand and pow'rful arm,
Whose succour they implor'd;
Thy presence with the chosen race,
Who thy great Name ador'd.