4 'Tis with a mournful pleasure now
I think on ancient days;
Then to thy house did numbers go,
And all our work was praise.

5' But why's my soul sunk down so far
Beneath this heavy load?
Why do my thoughts indulge despair,
And sin against my God?

6 Hope in the *Lord, whose mighty hand,
Can all thy woes remove:
For I shall yet before him stand,
^ And sing restoring love.

PSALM 42. Second Part. L. M.
Hope in affliction.

1 "1%/T Y spirit sinks within me, Lord,

But I will call thy name to mind;
And times of past distress record,
When I have found my God was kind.

2 Hugh troubles with tumultuous noise
Swell like a sea, and round me spread;
Thy water-spouts drown all my joys,
And rising waves roll o'er my head.

3 Yet will the Lord command his love,
When I address his throne by day,
Nor in the night his grace remove:'
The night shall hear me sing and pray.

4 I'll cast myself before his feet,

And say, *' My God, my heav'nly Rock!

"Why doth thy love so long forget

"The soul, that groans beneath thy stroke

5 I'll chide my heart that sinks so low; Why should my soul indulge her grief? Hope in the Lord, and praise him too; He is my rest, my sure relief,

6 Thy light and truth shall guide me still:
Thy word shall my best thoughts employ;
And lead me to thine heav'nly hill,
My God, my most exceeding joy.
PSALM A3. P. M.
Complaint mingled with hope.

1 ~\/W Y God, defend my cause
-lta Against a host of foes:
O! save me from th' unjust,
Who triumph in my woes.

Why dost thou faint,
My trembling heart?
To God impart
Thy sad complaint.

2 Why dost thou, O my shield,
Desert me thus forlorn?
Why, hated and oppress'd,
Thus bid me ceaseless mourn?

To God I fly;
In God I'll trust,
When low in dust
My head shall lie.

3 Now to thy sacred house
With joy direct my feet;
Where saints, with morning vowsj
In full assembly meet.

Thy power divine
Shall there be shown,
And from thy throne
Thy mercy shine.

4 O! send thy light abroad:
Thy truth with heav'nly ray
Shall lead my soul to God;
And guide my doubtful way.
I'll hear thy word
With faith sincere,
And learn to fear
And praise the Lord.

5 There reach thy bounteous hand,
And all my sorrows heal;
There health and strength divine
O! make my bosom feel.

Like balmy dew,
Shall Jesus' voice
My bones rejoice,
My strength renew.

6 Then in thy holy hill,
Before thine altar, Lord,

My harp and song shall sound
The glories of thy word.

Henceforth to thee,

O God of grace,

A hymn of praise

My life shall be.

7 My soul, awake to joy,
And triumph in the Lord,
My health, my hope, my song,
And my divine reward.

Ye fears remove;
No more I mourn;
But blest, return
To sing his love.

PSALM M. C. M.
The Church's complaint in persecution.
1 T ORD, we have heard thy works of olc1
Thy works of pow'r and grace;
When to our ears our fathers told
The wonders of their days:

2 How thou did'st build thy churches here,,

And make thy gospel known;
Among them did thine arm appear,
Thy light and glory shone.

3 In God they boasted all the day,

And in a cheerful throng
Did thousands meet to praise and pray,
And grace was all their song.

4 But now our souls are seiz'd with shame^

Confusion fills our face;
To hear the enemy blaspheme,
And fools reproach thy grace.

5 Yet have we not forgot our God,

Nor falsely dealt with heav'n;
Nor have our steps declin'd the road
Of duty thou hast giv'n.

6 Tho' dragons all around us roar,

With their destruetive~breath;
And thine own hand has bruis'd us sore,
Hard by the gates of death.

7 We are expos'd all day to die,

As martyrs for thy cause;
As sheep for slaughter, bound we lie,
By sharp and bloody laws.

8 Awake, arise, Almighty Lord!

Why sleeps thy wonted grace?
Why should we look like men abhorr'd
Or banish'd from thy face?

9 Wilt thou forever cast us off,

And still neglect our cries?
For ever hide thy heav'nly love
From our afflicted eyes?

10 Down to the dust our souls are bow'd

And lie upon the ground;

Rise for our help, rebuke the proud,
And all their pow'rs confound.
11 Redeem us from perpetual shame,
Our Saviour and our God:
We plead the honours of thy name,
The merits of thy blood.

PSALM 45. First Part. L. M.
The glory of Christ, and the power of his gospel.
1 "T^ OW be my heart inspir'd to sing
J-^l The glories of my Saviour King,
Jesus the Lord; how heav'nly fair
His form! how bright his beauties are!

2 O'er all the sons of human race,
He shines with a superior grace;
Love from his lips divinely flows,
And blessings all his state compose. ■

3 Dress thee in arms, most mighty Lord! Gird on the terror of thy sword!

In majesty and glory ride,

With truth and meekness at thy side.

4 Thine anger, like a pointed dart,
Shall pierce the foes of stubborn heart;
Or words of mercy, kind and sweet,
Shall melt the rebels at thy feet.

5 Thy throne, O God, for ever stands;
Grace is the sceptre in thy hands:
Thy laws and works are just and right:
Justice and grace are thy delight.

6 O God, thy God has richly shed
His oil of gladness on thy head,
And with his sacred Spirit blest
Th' eternal Son above the rest.

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