PSALM CXXVII.

1 THE builder's labour is in vain
Which he with pain bestows;
Except the Lord the house sustain
It into ruin goes.

2 Except the Lord the city watch
The watchmen walk in vain ;
Except the Lord the robber catch,
Your labour ends in pain.

3 Alas! you feed on sorrow's bread,
With anxious toil and care,
In vain you rest the weary head,
If God the Lord's not near;

4 For he supplies with needful sleep His well-beloved saints;

Safe his dear children God will keep, Supplying all their wants.

5 Happy the man who's table's full With sons and daughters fair, Brought up in Jesus' holy school,— No sight can this compare.

6 The heav'nly Father shall behold
This family in love;

Their deeds of charity are told
By angel choirs above.

PSALM CXXVIII.

1 BLESSED is he who fears the Lord,
And due devotion pays,
His happy labours will afford
Sweet rest in God's blest ways.

2 Abundantly he shall be fed
At his own fruitful board
His children from dependence led,
Like olive-plants, by God.

3 The Christian master blessed is,
Likewise his zealous wife;

Taught in the school of Christ Jesus,
They live a pious life.

4 The Lord will blessings give to them
And those from them descend;
The King of Zion, who reigns supreme,
Shall prove their constant friend.

5 Celestial happiness they taste

Whilst here on earth they live;
With children's children happy rest,
God them his love will give.

PSALM CXXIX.

1 FROM earliest youth may Britain say,
The foe has vex'd us sore;
Oft did assail it every way,
Yet not victor'ous were.
2 Often to heavy straits reduced,
But never long prevailed;

The Lord Great Britain's good produced,
When enemies assail'd.

3 Like weeds, which on the house-tops grow,
They fade and waste away;
Blasted by the cold wind, they go
Entirely to decay.

4 No stranger that them passes by,
Shall e'er in pity say,

The blessing of the Lord on high
Rest on their bones alway.

5 For God he shall defeat with shame
Ungodly scorners all;
Who dare deny his holy name,
To ruin quick shall fall.

6 Like blasted corn that farmers find
Cannot their barns fill,

And, like the empty sheaves they bind,
Their heart is rotten still.

PSALM CXXX.

1 FROM depth of misery I cry,
My voice, O God! now hear;
On patient suff'rings cast an eye,
And heed give to my pray❜r.
2 But who can stand before thy sight
If thou, Lord, art severe ?
O! grant forgiveness, God of light,
Lest hope be lost in fear.

3 My soul does wait for God the Lord,
Yea, patiently shall wait:
My hope rests on his Gospel-word,
And in a future state.

4 Lord, may the resurrection-day
My longing hopes make good;
Cheer'd by his smile's enlivening ray
When enter'd thy abode.

5 The Christian's hope is Christ the Lord, How rich in mercy he!

His Testament does sure record
In love he died for thee.

6 From him eternal mercy flows,
With free redeeming grace;
His precious blood which he bestows
Secures our Father's peace.

PSALM CXXXI.

1 NOT haughty is my heart, O Lord!
Nor scornful mine eye,
Nor do ambitious thoughts afford
Pleasure to me thereby.

2 Thou, Lord, know'st I have behaved
With resignation meet;
Afflictions down my spirit weighed,
And wean'd my heart complete.

3 Just like a babe, by mother nurst,
My God has cared for me;
In him I evermore will trust
Through all eternity.

PSALM CXXXII.

1 LET thy afflicted servants all
A place find in thy mind;
Lord, hear the destitute who call,
And let them pity find.

2 Remember, Lord, the solemn oath
Thy willing servants make,

No more to wander from thy path,— Them leave not, nor forsake.