And say, My God, my Rock, O why
Am I forgot, and mourning die,

By foes reduc'd to dust?

Their words like weapons pierce my bones;
While still they echo to my groans,
Where is the Lord thy trust?

My soul, why art thou so deprest!
O why so troubled in my breast!
Sunk underneath thy load!
With constant hope on God await:
For I his name shall celebrate;
My Saviour and my God.

PSALM LXVI.

HAPPY Sons of Israel,

Who in pleasant Canaan dwell,
Fill the air with shouts of joy;
Shouts redoubled from the sky.
Sing the great Jehovah's praise;
Trophies to his glory raise;
Say, How wonderful thy deeds!
Lord, thy power all power exceeds !
Conquest on thy sword doth sit;
Trembling foes through fear submit.
Let the many-peopled earth,
All of high and humble birth,
Worship our eternal King;
Hymns unto his honour sing.

Come, and see what God hath wrought;
Terrible to human thought!

He the billows did divide;

Wall'd with waves on either side,
While we passed safe and dry:
Then our soul were rapt with joy.
Endless his dominion;

All beholding from his throne.
Let not those who hate us most,
Let not the rebellious boast.

Bless the Lord; his praise be sung,
While an ear can hear a tongue.
He our feet establisheth;

He our souls redeems from death.
Lord, as silver purified,

Thou hast with affliction tried:
Thou hast driven into the net;
Burdens on our shoulders set:
Trod on by their horses' hooves;
Theirs, whom pity never moves.
We through fire, with flames embrac'd,
We through raging floods have pass'd:
Yet by thy conducting hand,
Brought into a wealthy land.
I will to thy house repair;
Worship, and thy power declare:
Offerings on thy altar lay;

All my vows devoutly pay,
Utter'd with my heart and tongue,
When oppress'd with powerful wrong.

Fatlings I will sacrifice;

Incense in perfume shall rise;

Bullocks, shaggy goats, and rams

Offered up in sacred flames.

You, who great Jehovah fear,

Come, O come, you bless'd, and hear

What for me the Lord hath wrought,
Then, when near to ruin brought.
Fervently to him I cried;
I his goodness magnified.
If I vices should affect,

Would not he my prayers reject?
But the Lord my prayers hath heard,
Which my tongue with tears preferr❜d.
Source of mercy, be thou blest,
That hast granted my request.

PSALM LXXXVIII.

My Saviour! both by night and day
To thee I pray.

O let my cries transcend the spheres,
And pierce thy ears!

Lest sorrow stop my fainting breath;
Now near the jaws of greedy death.

My light extinguish'd, numbered
Among the dead;

Like men in battle slain; the womb
Of earth their tomb:

Forgotten, as if never known;

By thy tempestuous wrath o'erthrown.

By thee lodg'd in the lowest deeps,
Where horror keeps;

In dungeons, where no sun displays
His cheerful rays.

Crush'd by thy wrath; on me thy waves
Rush, like so many rolling graves.

My old familiars, now my foes,
Deride my woes.

My house becomes my gaol; where I
In fetters lie.

Blind with my tears, with crying hoarse;
Hands rais'd in vain; a walking corse.

Wilt thou to those thy wonders show,
Who sleep below?

The dead from their cold mansions raise,
To sing thy praise ?

Shall mercy find us in the grave?
Or wilt thou in destruction save ?

Wilt thou thy wonders bring to light,
In death's long night?

Or shall thy justice there be shown,
Where none are known?

I have, and still to thee will pray;
Before the sun restore the day.

O, why hast thou withdrawn thy grace,
And hid thy face

From me, who from my infancy
But daily die?

Whilst I thy terrors undergo;
Distracted by these storms of woe.

Thy anger, like a gulf devours

My trembling powers:

With troops of terrors circled round;
In sorrow drown'd;

Depriv'd of those that lov'd me most;
To all in dark oblivion lost.

PSALM XCII.

THOU, who art enthron'd above;
Thou, by whom we live and move;
O how sweet, how excellent,

Is't with tongue and heart's consent,
Thankful hearts, and joyful tongues,
To renown thy name in songs!
When the morning paints the skies,
When the sparkling stars arise;
Thy high favours to rehearse,
Thy firm faith, in grateful verse.
Take the lute and violin;
Let the solemn harp begin;
Instruments strung with ten strings;
While the silver cymbal rings.
From thy works my joy proceeds:
How I triumph in thy deeds!
Who thy wonders can express!
All thy thoughts are fathomless;
Hid from men in knowledge blind;
Hid from fools to vice inclined.
Who that tyrant sin obey,

Though they spring like flowers in May,
Parch'd with heat, and nipp'd with frost,

Soon shall fade, for ever lost.

Lord, thou art most great, most high;
Such from all eternity.

Perish shall thy enemies,

Rebels that against thee rise.
All, who in their sins delight,
Shall be scatter'd by thy might.