Page images

The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep;
Witness if I be silent, morn or even,
To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my song, and taught His praise;
Hail, universal Lord, be bounteous still
To give us only good; and if the night
Have gather'd ought of evil, or conceal’d,
Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.






Happy, O! happy is his state,
Whose thoughts are always right;
Whose zeal the wicked ne'er abate,
Whom no ill words delight:
But who the law of GoD pursues,
In all he thinks, in all he does;
And, only earnest to obey,
Makes it his study night and day.

Like some fair tree a brook beside,
Whose waters nourish as they glide,
And keep it ever green,
Which blossoms cover in the spring,
Which autumn's golden honors bring;
So shall this man be seen.

For God, in whom he puts his trust,
ls ever good, is ever just;
And will his righteous servant give,
In constant peace and joy to live.

But hapless is the sinner's fate?
Whose thoughts to error tend;
To whom examples laws create,
Whom every wind can bend:
Fictitious hope his fancy feeds;
He restless toils, yet ne'er succeeds;
But sees the prospects he design'd
Dispers'd, like chaff before the wind.

Such is the order here of things,
Which from the wisest Being springs,
That evil works in vain ;
Goodness still draws its own reward,
While those who wicked ends regard,
Pursue and purchase pain.

For high in justice and in might,
GoD still to man dispenses right:
Still to the good shall life supply,
And let the stubborn sinner die.

PSALM XIII.-New Version.

How long wilt thou forget me, LoRP
Must I for ever mourn ?

How long wilt Thou withdraw from me?
Oh never to return ?

How long shall anxious thoughts my soul,
And grief my heart oppress 2

How long my enemies insult,
And I have no redress *

Oh, hear ! and to my longing eyes
Restore thy wonted light;
And suddenly, or I shall sleep
In everlasting night.

Then shall my song, with praise inspir'd,
To thee my GoD ascend,

Who to thy servant in distress
Such bounty did'st extend.

PSALM XV.-New Version.

LoRD, who's the happy man, that may
To Thy blest courts repair;

Not, stranger like, to visit them,
But to inhabit there *

'Tis He whose ev'ry thought and deed
By rules of virtue moves;

Whose generous tongue disdains to speak
The thing his heart disproves.

Who never did a slander forge,
His neighbour's fame to wound; *

Nor hearken to a false report,

By malice whisper'd round.

« PreviousContinue »