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HE Lord my pafture shall prepare,
And feed me with a fhepherd's care;
His prefence shall my wants fupply,

And guard me with a watchful eye;
My noon-day walks he fhall attend,
And all my midnight hours defend.

When in the fultry glebe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountain pant;
To fertile vales and dewy meads
My weary wand'ring fteps he leads;
Where peaceful rivers, foft and flow,
Amid the verdant landskip flow.

Tho' in the paths of death I tread,
With gloomy horrors' overspread,
My ftedfaft heart fhall fear no ill,
For thou, O Lord, art with me ftill;

Thy friendly crook fball give me aid,

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Aud guide me through the dreadful fhade.

Tho' in a bare and rugged way,

Thro' devious lonely wilds I ftray,


Thy bounty shall my pains beguile :
The barren wilderness fhall fmile,
With fudden greens and herbage crown'd,

And ftreams fhall murmur all around.

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HEN all thy mercies, O my God,
My rifing foul furveys;

Transported with the view, I'm loft
In wonder, love, and praife:

O how shall words with equal warmth
The gratitude declare,

That glows within my ravish'd heart?
But thou canst read it there.

Thy Providence my life fuftain'd,
And all my wants redrest,
When in the filent womb I lay,
And hung upon the breast.

To all my weak complaints and cries,'
Thy mercy lent an ear,

Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt

To form themfelves in pray`r.


Unnumber'd comforts to my foul
Thy tender care bestow'd,

Before my infant heart conceiv'd

From whom those comforts flow'd.

When in the flipp'ry paths of youth
With heedlefs fteps I ran,

Thine arm unfeen convey'd me fafe,
And led me up to man.

Thro' hidden dangers, toils, and deaths,

It gently clear'd my way,

And through the pleafing fnares of vice,
More to be fear'd than they.

When worn with fickness, oft haft thou
With health renew'd my face,

And when in fins and forrows funk,
Reviv'd my foul with grace.

Thy bounteous hand with worldly blifs
Has made my cup run o'er,

And in a kind and faithful friend

Has doubled all my ftore.

Ten thoufand thoufand precious gifts

My daily thanks employ,

Nor is the least a chearful heart,

That taftes thofe gifts with joy.


Thro' every period of my life

Thy goodness I'll purfue;

And after death in diftant worlds

The glorious theme renew.

When nature fails, and day and night
Divide thy works no more,
My ever-grateful heart, O Lord,
Thy mercy fhall adore.

Thro' all eternity to thee
A joyful fong I'll raise,

For oh! eternity's too short
To utter all thy praise.



HE fpacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,

And fpangled heavens, a fhining frame,
Their great original proclaim;

Th' unwearied fun, from day to day,
Does his creator's pow'r difplay,

And publishes to every land

The work of an almighty hand.


Soon as th' ev'ning fhades prevail,

The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the lift'ning earth

Repeats the ftory of her birth:

Whilft all the ftars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And fpread the truth from pole to pole.

What though, in folemn filence, all
Move round the dark terreflrial ball?
What tho' nor real voice nor found
Amid their radiant orbs be found?
In reafon's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever finging, as they shine,
"The hand that made us is divine."

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