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4 The rich have ftatues well adorn'd with gold;
The poor, content with gods of coarfer mould,
With tools of iron carve the fenfelefs ftock,
Lopt from à tree, or broken from a rock :
People and priefts drive on the folemn trade,
And truft the gods that faws and hammers made.j
Be heav'n and earth amaz'd! 'Tis hard to fay,
Which is more stupid, or their gods, or they.
O Ifr'el, truft the Lord! he hears and fees,
He knows thy forrows, and reftores thy peace :
His worship does a thoufand comforts yield,
He is thy help, and he thy heav'nly shield.
6 In God we truft; our impious foes in vain
Attempt our ruin, and oppofe his reign;
Had they prevail'd, darknets had clos'd our days,
And death and filence had forbid his praise :
But we are fav'd, and live: Let fongs arife,
And Zion blefs the God that built the fkies.

PSALM CXVI. 1ft Part. Com. Metre.
Recovery from fickness.

I LOVE the Lord: he heard my cries,
And pity'd every groan;

Long as I live, when troubles rife
I'll haften to his throne.

2 I love the Lord: he bow'd his ear,
And chas'd my griefs away:
O let my heart no more defpair,
While I have breath to pray!

My flesh declin'd, my fpirits fell,
And I drew near the dead;
While inward pangs, and fears of hell,
Perplex'd my wakeful head.

"My God, I cry'd, thy fervant fave,
"Thou ever good and juft;

"Thy pow'r can rescue from the grave,

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Thy pow'r is all my truft."

5 The Lord beheld me fore distrest,
He bid my pains remove :
Return, my foul, to God, thy reft,
For thou haft known his love.

6 My God hath fav'd my foul from death, And dry'd my falling tears:

Now to his praife I'll fpend my breath, And my remaining years.

PSALM CXVI. 2d Part. Com. Metre. Ver. 12, &c. Vows, made in trouble, paid in the church; or, publie thanks for private deliverance. HAT fhall I render to my God

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WH

For all his kindnefs fhown?

My feet fhall visit thine abode,
My fongs addrefs thy throne.

2 Among the faints that fill thy houfe
My off'rings fhall be paid;
There fhall my zeal perform the vows
My foul in anguish made.

3 How much is mercy thy delight,
Thou ever-bleffed God!

How dear thy fervants in thy fight!
How precious is their blood!

4 How happy all thy fervants are!
How great thy grace to me!

My life, which thou haft made thy care, Lord, I devote to thee.

5 Now I am thine, for ever thine,
Nor fhall my purpose move;

Thy hand hath loos'd my bands of pain,
And bound me with thy love.

6 Here in thy courts I leave my vow,
And thy rich grace record;
Witnefs, ye faints, who hear me now,
If I forfake the Lord.

PSALM CXVII. Common Metre.
Praife to God from all nations.
ALL ye nations, praife the Lord,
Each with a diffrent tongue :

In ev'ry language learn his word,
And let his name be fung.

2 His mercy reigns through ev'ry land;
Proclaim his grace abroad;
For ever firm his truth fhall ftand;
Praise ye the faithful God.

PSALM CXVII. Long Metre.
ROM all that dwell below the skies,
Let the Creator's praise arife ;
Let the Redeemer's name be fung
Through ev'ry land, by ev'ry tongue.
2 Eternal are thy mercies, Lord;
Eternal truth attends thy word :
Thy praise fhall found from fhore to shore,
'Till funs fhall rife and fet no more.
PSALM CXVII. Short Metre.

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HY name, Almighty Lord,

T Shall found through diftant lands ;

Great is thy grace, and fure thy word, Thy truth for ever ftands.

2 Far be thine honour fpread,
And long thy praise endure,

Till morning light and ev'ning fhade
Shall be exchang'd no more.

PSALM CXVIII. 1ft Part. Com. Met.

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Ver. 6-15. Deliverance from a tumult.
HE Lord appears my helper now,
Nor is my faith afraid

TH

Of what the fons of earth can do,
Since heav'n affords me aid.
2 'Tis fafer, Lord, to hope in thee,
And have my God my friend,
Than truft in men of high degree,
And on their truth depend.

3 Like bees my foes befet me round;
A large and angry fwarm!

But I fhall all their rage confound
By thine almighty arm.

4 'Tis through the Lord my heart is Arong,
In him my lips rejoice;
While his falvation is my fong,

How cheerful is my voice!

5 Like angry bees they gird me round;
When God appears, they fly:

So burning thorns, with crackling found,
Make a fierce blaze and die.

6 Joy to the faints and peace belongs;
The Lord protects their ways;
Let Ifr'el tune immortal fongs
To his almighty grace,

PSALM CXVIII. 2d Part. Com. Metre.

Ver. 17-21.

Public praise for deliverance from death.

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ORD, thou haft hea:d thy fervant cry, And refcu'd from the grave; Now fhall he live; (and none can die, If God refolve to fave.)

2 Thy praise, more conftant than before, Shall fill his daily breath;

Thy hand, that hath chaftis'd him fore, Defends him ftill from death.

3 Open the gates of Zion now,
For we fhall worship there;

The house where all the righteous go,
Thy mercy to declare.

4 Amongst th' affemblies of thy faints
Our thankful voice we raife :
There we have told thee our complaints,
And there we fpeak thy praife.

PSALM CXVIII. 3d Part. Com. Metre.

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Ver. 22, 23. Chrift the foundation of his church.

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EHOLD the fure foundation-stone
Which God in Zion lays,
To build our heav'nly hopes upon,
And his eternal praise.

2 Chofen of God, to finners dear,
And faints adore the name;
They trust their whole falvation here,
Nor fhall they fuffer fhame.

3 The foolish builders, fcribe and priest,
Reject it with difdain;

Yet on this Rock, the church shall rest,
And envy rage in vain.

4 What though the gates of hell withstood, Yet muft this building rife:

'Tis thine own work, Almighty God, And wond'rous in our eyes,

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