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6 Wilt thou not turn and hear our voice,
1 THY gracious ear, O Lord, incline, O hear me, I thee pray; For I am poor, and almost pine With need, and sad decay. ? Preserve my soul; for I have trod 5 Thy ways, and love the just; Save thou thy servant, O my God, Who still in thee doth trust. 8 Pity me, Lord, for daily thee 1 call;  O. make rejoice 10 Thy servant's soul; for, Lord, to thee 1 lift my soul and voice. 5 For thou art good, thou, Lord, art prone To pardon, thou to all Art full of mercy, thou alone 15 To them that on thee call.
6 Unto my supplication, Lord, Give ear, and to the cry Of my incessant pray'rs afford Thy hearing graciously. 7 I, in the day of my distress, Will call on thee for aid; For thou wilt grant me free access, And answer what I pray’d. 8 Like thee among the gods is none, 25 O Lord; nor any works Of all that other gods have done Like to thy glorious works. 9 The nations all whom thou hast made Shall come, and all shall frame 30 To bow them low before thee, Lord, And glorify thy name. 10 For great thou art, and wonders great By thy strong hand are done; Thou, in thy everlasting seat, Remainest God alone. 11 Teach me, O Lord, thy way most right; I in thy truth will bide; To fear thy name my heart unite, So shall it never slide. 40 12 Thee will I praise, O Lord my God, Thee honour and adore With my whole heart, and blaze abroad Thy name for evermore. 13 For great thy mercy is tow'rd me, • 45 And thou hast freed my soul, Ev’n from the lowest hell set free, From deepest darkness foul. 14 O God, the proud against me rise, And violent men are met 50 To seek my life, and in their eyes No fear of thee have set. 15 But thou, Lord, art the God most mild, Readiest thy grace to shew, Slow to be angry, and art styl'd 55 Most merciful, most true. 16 0 turn to me thy face at length, And me have mercy on; Unto thy servant give thy strength, And save thy handmaid's son. 60 17 Some sign of good to me afford, And let my foes then see, And be asham'd; because thou, Lord, Dost help and comfort me.
1 AMONG the holy mountains high
= 2 Sion's fair gates the Lord loves more 5 Than all the dwellings fair. of Jacob's land, though there be store, And all within his care. 3 City of God, most glorious things Öf thee abroad are spoke; 10 4 I mention Egypt, where proud kings Did our forefathers yoke. I mention Babel to my friends, Philistia full of scorn; And Tyre with Ethiop's utmost ends, 15 Lo this man there was born: 5 But twice that praise shall in our ear Be said of Sion last; This and this man was born in her; High God shall fix her fast. 20 6 The iord shall write it in a scroll That ne'er shall be out-worn, When he the nations doth enroll, That this man there was born. • 7. Both they who sing, and they who dance, 25 With sacred songs are there; In thee fresh brooks and soft streams glance, And all my fountains clear.
1 LORD God, that dost me save and keep,
== 7 Thy wrath, from which no shelter saves, Full sore doth press on me; 30 Thou break'st upon me all thy waves, And all thy waves break me. 8 Thou dost my friends from me estrange, And mak'st me odious, Me to them odious, for they change, 35 And I here pent up thus. 9 Through sorrow, and affliction great, Mine eye grows dim and dead; Lord, all the day I thee entreat, My hands to thee I spread. 40 10 Wilt thou do wonders on the dead? Shall the deceas'd arise, And praise thee from their loathsome bed With pale and hollow eyes? 11 Shall they thy loving kindness tell, 45 On whom the grave hath hold 2 Or they, who in perdition dwell, Thy faithfulness unfold? 12 In darkness can thy mighty hand Or wondrous acts be known P 50 Thy justice in the gloomy land Of dark oblivion ? 13 But I to thee, O Lord, do cry, Ere yet my life be spent; And up to thee my pray’r doth hie 55 Each morn, and thee prevent. 14 Why wilt thou, Lord, my soul forsake, And hide thy face from me, 15 That am already bruis'd, and shake With terror sent from thee? 60 Bruis'd and afflicted, and so low As ready to expire; While I thy terrors undergo, Astonish'd with thine ire. 16 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow; 65 Thy threat'nings cut me through: 17 All day they round about me go, Like waves they me pursue. 18 Lover and friend thou hast remov’d, And sever'd from me far: 70 They fly me now whom I have lov’d, And as in darkness are.
A PARAPHRASE ON PSA L. M. CXIV.
This and the following Psalm were done by the Author at fifteen years old.
WHEN the blest seed of Terah's faithful son,
His praise and glory was in Israel known.
PSAL M CXXXVI.