Page images
PDF
EPUB

Give ear, and to the cry Of my incessant pray'rs afford Thy hearing graciously.

7

I in the day of my distress
Will call on thee for aid;

For thou wilt grant me free access,
And answer what I pray'd.

20

8 Like thee among the Gods is none, O Lord, nor any works

25

Of all that other Gods have done

Like to thy glorious works.

9

The nations all whom thou haft made
Shall come, and all fhall frame

30

[blocks in formation]

11 Teach me, O Lord, thy way most right,

I in thy truth will bide,

To fear thy name my heart unite,

So fhall it never flide.

40

12 Thee will I praise, O Lord my God, Thee honor and adore

With my whole heart, and blaze abroad

Thy name for evermore.

13 For great thy mercy is tow'rd me,

45

And

And thou haft free'd my foul, Ev'n from the lowest Hell fet free, From deepest darkness foul.

14 O God the proud against me rise,

And violent men are met

50

To seek my life, and in their eyes

No fear of thee have set.

15 But thou, Lord, art the God moft mild,

Readieft thy grace to fhew,

Slow to be angry, and art ftil'd

55

Moft merciful, most true.

61 O turn to me thy face at length,

And me have mercy on,
Unto thy fervant give thy ftrength,

And fave thy handmaid's son.
17 Some fign of good to me afford,
And let my foes then fee,
And be afham'd, because thou Lord
Doft help and comfort me.

I

A

[blocks in formation]

MONG the holy mountains high
Is his foundation fast,

There feated is his fan&tuary,

His temple there is plac'd.

60

2 Sion's fair gates the Lord loves more

5

Than all the dwellings fair

Of Jacob's land, though there be store,

And

And all within his care.

3 City of God, most glorious things Of thee abroad are spoke;

4 I mention Egypt, where proud kings
Did our forefathers yoke,

I mention Babel to my friends,
Philiftia full of fcorn,

And Tyre with Ethiops utmost ends,

Lo this man there was born:

5 But twice that praise fhall in our ear Be faid of Sion last,

This and this man was born in her,

High God fhall fix her fast.

6 The Lord fhall write it in a scroll That ne'er fhall be out-worn,

When he the nations doth inroll,

That this man there was born.

7 Both they who fing, and they who dance, With facred fongs are there,

In thee fresh brooks, and foft ftreams glance,

And all my fountains clear.

'L°

[blocks in formation]

ORD God that doft me fave and keep,
All day to thee I cry;

And all night long before thee weep,

Before thee proftrate lie.

2 Into thy presence let my pray'r

10

15

20

25

With fighs devout afcend,

And to my cries, that ceafelefs are,

Thine ear with favor bend.

3 For cloy'd with woes and trouble store

Surcharg'd my foul doth lie,

My life at death's unchearful door

Unto the grave draws nigh.

4 Reckon❜d I am with them that pass

Down to the difmal pit,

I am a *man, but weak alas,

And for that name unfit.

10

15

*Heb. A man without manly strength.

5 From life discharg'd and parted quite

Among the dead to sleep,

And like the flain in bloody fight

That in the grave lie deep.

Whom thou rememberest no more,

Doft never more regard,

Them from thy hand deliver'd o'er

Death's hideous house hath barr'd.

6 Thou in the lowest pit profound

Haft fet me all forlorn,

Where thickest darkness hovers round,

In horrid deeps to mourn.

7 Thy wrath, from which no fhelter faves,

Full fore doth press on me;

* Thou break'ft upon me all thy waves,

20

25

30

*And all thy waves break me. *The Hebr. bears both.

Thou

8 Thou doft my friends from me estrange,

And mak'ft me odious,

Me to them odious, for they change,

And I here pent up thus.

9 Through forrow, and affliction great, Mine eye grows dim and dead,

Lord, all the day I thee intreat,

My hands to thee I spread.

35

10 Wilt thou do wonders on the dead, Shall the deceas'd arise

40

And praise thee from their loathfome bed

With pale and hollow eyes?

11 Shall they thy loving kindness tell

hath hold,

On whom the grave
Or they who in perdition dwell,

Thy faithfulness unfold?

12 In darkness can thy mighty hand

Or wondrous acts be known,

Thy justice in the gloomy land

Of dark oblivion?

13 But I to thee, O Lord, do cry,

Ere yet my life be spent,

And up to thee my pray'r doth hie,

45

50

55

Each morn, and thee prevent.

14 Why wilt thou, Lord, my foul forfake, And hide thy face from me,

15 That am already bruis'd, and + fhake

With terror fent from thee? + Heb. Prae Concuffione.

[blocks in formation]
« PreviousContinue »