1 PSALM CXL. RESERVE me, Lord, from crafty foes, of treacherous intent; PRE 2 And from the sons of violence, on open mischief bent. 3 Their sland'ring tongue the serpent's sting and adder's venom breed. 4 Preserve me, Lord, from wicked hands, A prey to sons of violence, 5 The proud for me have laid their snare, With traps and gins, where'er I move, 6 But thus environ'd with distress, Lord, hear my supplicating voice, 7 O Lord, the God whose saving strength 8 Permit not their unjust designs Lest they, encourag'd by success, to bolder crimes aspire. 9 Let first their chiefs the sad effects of their injustice mourn; The blast of their envenom❜d breath upon themselves return. 10 Let them who kindle first the flame, its sacrifice become; The pit they digg'd for me be made their own untimely tomb. 11 Though slander's breath may raise a storm, it quickly will decay: Their rage does but the torrent swell, that bears themselves away. 12 God will assert the poor man's cause, PSALM CXLI. 1 NO thee, O Lord, my cries ascend, To haste to my relief; And with accustom'd pity hear the accents of my grief. 2 Instead of off'rings, let my prayer 3 From hasty language curb my tongue, 4 From wicked men's designs and deeds my heart and hands restrain; Nor let me in the booty share of their unrighteous gain. 5 Let upright men reprove my faults, and I shall think them kind; Like balm that heals a wounded head, I their reproof shall find; And, in return, my fervent prayer I shall for them address, When they are tempted and reduc'd, like me, to sore distress. 6 When skulking in Engedi's rock, If one reproachful word I spoke, 7 Yet us they persecute to death; As thick as from the hewer's axe 8 But, Lord, to thee I still direct O leave not destitute my soul, 9 Do thou preserve me from the snares 1 T PSALM CXLII. O God, with mournful voice, 2 Made him the umpire of my cause, 3 Thou didst my steps direct, when my griev'd soul despair'd; For where I thought to walk secure, they had their traps prepar'd. 4 I look'd, but found no friend to own me in distress; All refuge fail'd, no man vouchsaf'd his pity or redress. 5 To God at last I pray'd; thou, Lord, my refuge art, My portion in the land of life, 6 Reduc'd to greatest straits, 1 PSALM CXLIII. ORD, hear my prayer, and to my cry. thy wonted audience lend; In thy accustom'd faith and truth a gracious answer send. 2 Nor at thy strict tribunal bring For in thy sight no living man 3 The spiteful foe pursues my life, He drives me into caves as dark 4 My spirit therefore is o'erwhelm'd, 5 I call to mind the days of old, 6 To thee my hands in humble prayer My soul for thy refreshment thirsts, 7 Hear me with speed; my spirit fails; Lest I become forlorn, like them 8 Thy kindness early let me hear, whose trust on thee depends; Teach me the way where I should go; 9 Do thou, O Lord, from all my foes A safe retreat against their rage 10 Thou art my God, thy righteous will Let thy good spirit lead and keep my soul in thy right way. 11 O! for the sake of thy great name, For thy truth's sake, to me distress'd, 12 In pity to my sufferings, Lord, PSALM CXLIV. 1 NOR ever bless'd be God the Lord, my strong deliv'rance, and my shield; In him I trust whose matchless power makes to my sway fierce nations yield. 3 Lord, what's in man, that thou shouldst love of him such tender care to take? What in his offspring could thee move such great account of him to make? 4 The life of man does quickly fade,. his thoughts but empty are and vain, His days are like a flying shade, of whose short stay no signs remain. 5 In solemn state, O God, descend, whilst heaven its lofty head inclines; The smoking hills asunder rend, of thy approach the awful signs. 6 Discharge thy awful lightnings round, and make thy scatter'd foes retreat; Then with thy pointed arrows wound, and their destruction soon complete. 7, 8 Do thou, O Lord, from heaven engage thy boundless power my foes to quell, And snatch me from the stormy rage of threat'ning waves, that proudly swell. Fight thou against my foreign foes, who utter speeches false and vain; Who, though in solemn leagues they close, their sworn engagements ne'er maintain.. 9 So I to thee, O King of kings, in new-made hymns my voice shall raise, And instruments of many strings shall help me thus to sing thy praise: 10" God does to kings his aid afford, "to them his sure salvation sends; " "Tis he that from the murdering sword "his servant David still defends." 11 Fight thou against my foreign foes, who utter speeches false and vain; Who, though in solemn leagues they close, their sworn engagements ne'er maintain. 12 Then our young sons like trees shall grow, well planted in some fruitful place; Our daughters shall like pillars show, design'd some royal court to grace. 13 Our garners fill'd with various store, shall us and ours with plenty feed; Our sheep, increasing more and more, shall thousands and ten thousands breed. 14 Strong shall our lab'ring oxen grow, nor in their constant labour faint; Whilst we no war nor slav'ry know, and in our streets hear no complaint. 15 Thrice happy is that people's case, whose various blessings thus abound; Who God's true worship still embrace, and are with his protection crown'd. PSALM CXLV. 1, 2 HEE will I bless, my God and King, thy endless praise proclaim; This tribute daily I will bring, and ever bless thy name. 3 Thou, Lord, beyond compare art great, and highly to be prais'd; Thy majesty, with boundless height, above our knowledge rais'd. 4 Renown'd for mighty acts, thy fame to future time extends; From age to age thy glorious name 5, 6 Whilst I thy glory and renown, 7 The praise that to thy love belongs, 8 The Lord is good; fresh acts of grace his pity still supplies; His anger moves with slowest pace, his willing mercy flies. 9, 10 Thy love through earth extends its fame, to all thy works exprest;) These show thy praise, whilst thy great name is by thy servants blest. 11 They, with a glorious prospect fir'd, shall of thy kingdom speak; And thy great power, by all admir'd, their lofty subject make. |