5 Mark this, ye wicked Fools, left I
Let all my Bolts of Vengeance fly,
Whilft none thall dare your Cause to own:
Who praifes me, due Honour gives;
And to the Man that juftly lives,
My ftrong Salvation fhall be fhown.
PSALM LI.

HAVE Mercy, Lord, on me,

as thou wert ever kind;

Let me, oppreft with Loads of Guilt, thy wonted Mercy find.

2 Wash off my foul Offence,

and cleanse me from my

Sin;

For I confefs my Crime, and fee

how great my Guilt has been.

3 Against thee, Lord, alone,

and only in thy Sight,

Have I tranfgrefs'd; and tho' condemn'd,

muft own thy Judgments right.

4 Make me to hear with Joy

thy kind forgiving Voice;

That fo the Bones which thou haft broke,

may with fresh Strength rejoice.

5 Blot out my crying Sins,

nor me in Anger view;

Create in me a Heart that's clean, an upright Mind renew.

PSALM LI. P. 2.

WITHDRAW not, Lord, thy Help, nor caft me from thy Sight;

Nor

Nor let thy Holy Spirit take it's everlasting Flight. 2 The Joy thy Favour gives let me again obtain;

And let thy Spirit's firm Support
my fainting Soul fuftain."
3 So I thy righteous Ways

to Sinners will impart;
Whilst my Advice fhall wicked Men
to thy just Laws convert.

4 Do thou unlock my Lips,

with Sorrow clos'd, and Shame; So fhall my Mouth thy wond'rous Praise to all the World proclaim.

PSALM LVII.

BE thou, O God, exalted high; And, as thy Glory fills the Sky, So let it be on Earth display'd, 'Till thou art here, as there, obey'd. 20 God, my Heart is fix'd, 'tis bent It's thankful Tribute to prefent; And, with my Heart, my Voice I'll raise To thee, my God, in Songs of Praise. 3 Awake, my Glory; Harp and Lute, No longer let your Strings be mute; And I, my tuneful Part to take, Will with the early Dawn awake. 4 Thy Praises, Lord, I will refound To all the lift'ning Nations round: Thy Mercy highest Heav'n tranfcends; Thy Truth beyond the Clouds extends.

5 Be thou, O God, exalted high;
And, as thy Glory fills the Sky,
So let it be on Earth display'd,
Till thou art here, as there, obey'd.

3

IN

N God, ye People, always truft;
Before his Throne pour out your Hearts;
For God, the Merciful and Juft,
His timely Aid to us imparts.

2 The Vulgar fickle are and frail;
The Great diffemble and betray;
And, laid in Truth's impartial Scale,
The lightest Things will both out-weigh,
Then truft not in oppreffive Ways;
By Spoil and Rapine grow not vain;
Nor let your Hearts, if Wealth increase,
Be fet too much upon your Gain.
For God has oft his Will exprefs'd;
And I this Truth have fully known;
To be of boundless Pow'r poffefs'd,
Belongs, of Right, to God alone.
5 Tho' Mercy is his darling Grace,
In which he chiefly takes Delight;
Yet will he all the human Race,
According to their Works requite.
PSALM LXIII.

4

IOGOD, my gracious God, to thee
My morning Pray'rs fhall offer'd be;

For

For thee my thirfty Soul does pant; My fainting Flesh implores thy Grace, Within this dry and barren Place, Where I refreshing Waters want. 2 O! to my longing Eyes once more, That View of glorious Pow'r restore, Which thy majeftic House displays: Because to me thy wond'rous Love, Than Life itself does dearer prove, My Lips fhall always fpeak thy Praife. 3 My Life, while I that Life enjoy, In bieffing God I will employ,

With lifted Hands adore his Name: My Soul's Content fhall be as great, As theirs who choiceft Dainties eat,

While I with Joy his Praife proclaim. 4 When down I lie, fweet Sleep to find, Thou, Lord, art prefent to my Mind; And when I wake in Dead of Night: Because thou ftill doft Succour bring, Beneath the Shadow of thy Wing I reft with Safety and Delight.

PSALM LXV.

FOR thee, O God, our constant Praise In Sion waits, thy chofen Seat; Our promis'd Altars there we'll raise, And all our zealous Vows compleat. 2 O thou, who to my humble Pray'r Did'ft always bend thy lift'ning Ear; To thee fhall all Mankind repair, And at thy gracious Throne appear.

3 Our Sins (tho' numberless) in Vain
To ftop thy flowing Mercy try;
Whilft thou o'erlook'ft the guilty Stain,
And wafheft cut the crimson Dye.
4 Bleft is the Man, who, near thee plac'd,
Within thy facred Dwelling lives!
Whilft we, at humbler Distance, tafte
The vaft Delights thy Temple gives.

PSALM LXV. P. 2.

THO

'HOU,Lord,fromout thyboundless Store, With Rain reliev'ft the thirsty Ground: Mak'ft Lands, that barren where before, With Corn and useful Fruits abound. 2 On rifing Ridges down it pours, And ev'ry furrow'd Valley fills;

3

Thou mak'ft them foft with gentle Show'rs, In which a bleft Increase diftils.

Thy Goodness does the circling Year, With fresh Returns of Plenty crown; And where thy glorious Paths appear, Thy fruitful Clouds drop Fatness down. 4 They drop on barren Forefts, chang'd By them to Paftures fresh and green: The Hills about, in Order rang'd, In beauteous Robes of Joy are seen. 5 Large Flocks with fleecy Wool adorn The cheerful Downs; the Vallies bring A plenteous Crop of full-ear'd Corn, And feem for Joy to fhout and fing.

PSALM