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The ftorm was laid, the winds retir'd,
Obedient to thy will;
The fea that roar'd at thy command,
At thy command was still.

In midst of dangers, fears, and deaths,
Thy goodness I'll adore;
And praife thee for thy mercies paft,
And humbly hope for more.
My life, if thou preferv'ft my life,

Thy facrifice fhall be;

And death, if death must be my doom, Shall join my foul to thee.

§ 12. Hymn. ANON.

WHEN rifing from the bed of death, O'erwhelm'd with guilt and fear,

I fee my Maker face to face,

Of how hall I appear?

If yet, while pardon may be found,
And mercy may be fought,
My heart with inward horror fhrinks,
And trembles at the thought;"
When thou, O Lord fhalt ftand difclos'd
In najefty fevere,
And fit in judgment on my foul,

O! how shall I appear !

But thou haft told the troubled foul,

Who does her fins lament,

The timely tribute of her tears

Shall endless woes prevent,

Then fee the forrows of my heart,

Ere yet it be too late ;

And hear my Saviour's dying groans,

To give thofe forrows weight. For never shall my foul defpair

Her pardon to procure,

Who knows the only Son has dy'd
To make that pardon fure.

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The deep-felt figh, the ceafclefs pray'r,
O make thy fervant ftill thy care.
That aid, which oft my griefs has heal'd,
To aid again, intreated, vield. .
How long, ye fons of pride, how long
Shall falihood arm your impious tongue,
And erring rage your breaft inflame,
My pow'r to thwart, my acts defame?
To God my heart fhall vent its woe,
Who, prompt his bleffing to bestow
On cach whose breaft has learn'd his fear,
Bows to my plaint the willing car.

Hum would'st thou pleafe? With rev'rent awe
Obferve the dictates of his Law:
In fecret on thy couch reclin'd
Search to its depth thy reftlefs mind,
Till hufh'd to peace the tumult lie,
And wrath and ftrife within thee die.

With pureft gifts approach his fhrine,
And fafe to him thy care refign.

I hear a hopeless train demand,

"Where's now the wifh'd Deliv'rer's hand?"
Do Thou, my God, do thou reply,
And let thy prefence from on high,
In full effufion o'er our head
Its all-enliv'ning influence shed.
What joy my confcious heart o'erflows!
Not fuch th❜exulting lab'rer knows,
When to his long expecting eyes
The Vintage and the harvefts rife,
And, fhadowing wide the cultur'd foil,
With full requital crown his toil.
My weary eyes in fleep I clofe;
My limbs, fecure, to reft compofe;

For Thou, great God, fhall fereen my head,
And plant a guard around my bed.


§ 14. Pfalm 5th. MERRICK.
HE words that from my lips proceed, [read)
My thoughts (for Thou thofe thoughts can't
My God, my King, attentive weigh,
And hear, O hear me, when I pray.
With earlieft zeal, with wakeful care,
To Thee my foul fhall pour its pray'r,
And, ere the dawn has freak'd the iky,
To thee direct its longing eye:

To Thee, whom nought obfcur'd by stain
Can pleafe; whofe doors to feet profane
Inexorable stand; whofe Law
Offenders from thy fight shall awe.
Let each whofe tongue to lies is turn'd,
Who leffons of deceit has learn'd,

Or thirits a brother's blood to fhed,
Thy hate and heaviest vengeance dread.
But I, whofe hope thy Love fupports
(How great that Love!) will tread thy Courts,
My knees in lowlieft rev'rence bend,
And tow'rd thy fhrine my hands extend.
Do thou, just God, my path prepare,
And guard me from each hoftile inare ;
O lend me thy conducting ray,
And level to my fteps thy way.
Behold me by a troop inclos'd,
Of falfhood and of guilt compos'd:
Their throat a fepulchre difplays,
Deep, wide, infatiate; in their praile
Lurks flatt'ry, and with fpecious art
Belies the purpose of their heart,
O let the mifchiefs they intend,
Retorted on themfelves defcend,
And let thy wrath correct their fin,
Whofe hearts thy mercy fails to win.
May all whofe truft on Thee is plac'd
Peace and delight perpetual tafte,
Sav'd by thy care, in fongs of joy
Their ever grateful voice employ,
And fhare the gifts on those bestow'd,
Who love the name of Jacob's God.
To each who bears a guiltlefs heart,
Thy grace its bleffings fhall impart
Strong as the brazen fhield, thy aid
Around him cafts its cov'ring shade.

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§ 15. Pfalm 6th. MERRICK. SPARE me, Lord, nor o'er my head The fulness of thy vengeance shed. With pitying eye my weakness view, Heal my vex'd Soul, my ftrength renew! And O, if yet my fins demand The wife corrections of thy hand, Yet give my pains their bounds to know, And fix a period to my woe. Return, great God, return, and fave Thy fervant from the greedy grave. Shall Death's long-filent tongue, O fay, The records of thy pow'r difplay, Or pale Corruption's startled car Thy praife within its prifon hear? By languor, grief, and care oppreft, With groans perpetual heaves my breaft, And tears, in large profufion fhed, Inceffant lave my fleepless bed. My life, though yet in mid career, Beholds the winter of its year (While clouds of grief around me roll, And hoftile ftorms invade my fou!) Relentless from my cheek each trace Of youth and blooming health erafe, And fpread before my wafting fight The fhades of all-obfcuring night.

Hence, ye profane: My Saviour hears; While yet I fpeak, he wipes my tears, Accepts my pray'r, and bids each foe With fhame their vain attempts forego, And, ftruck with horror from on high, In wild disorder backward fly.

§ 16. Pfalm 8th. MERRICK. Mmortal King! through Earth's wide frame How great thy honour, praise, and name! Whofe reign o'er diftant worlds extends, Whofe glory heav'n's vaft height tranfcends! From infants Thou canft ftrength upraife, And form their lifping tongues to praife: By thefe the vengeance-breathing Foe, Thy mightier terrors taught to know, In mute aftonishment shall stand, And bow beneath thy conqu'ring hand. When, rapt in thought, with wakeful eye

I view the wonders of the sky,

Whofe frame thy fingers o'er our head
In rich magnificence have fpread,
The filent Moon, with waxing horn
Along th'ethereal region borne;
The Stars with vivid luftre crown'd,
That mighty walk their deftin'd round,
Lord! What is man, that in thy care
His humble lot fhould find a fhare!
Or what the Son of Man, that Thou
Thus to his wants thy ear fhouldst bow?
His rank awhile, by thy decree,

Th' Angelic Tribes beneath them fee,
Till round him thy imparted rays
With unextinguifh'd glory blaze.
Subjected to his feet by thee,

To Him all Nature bows the knee;

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§ 17. Pfalm 23d. MERRICK. LO, my Shepherd's hand divine!

Want fhall never more be inine. In a pasture fair and large He fhall feed his happy Charge, And my couch with tend'reft care, 'Midft the fpringing grafs prepare. When I faint with fummer's heat, He fhall lead my weary feet To the ftreams that ftill and flow Though the verdant meadow flow. Here my foul anew shall frame, And, his mercy to proclaim, When through devious paths I ftray, Teach my steps the better way. Though the dreary vale I tread, By the fhades of death o'erfpread; There I walk from terror free, While my ev'ry with I fee By thy rod and staff supply'd; This my guard, and that my guide. While my foes are gazing on, Thou thy fav'ring care haft fhown; Thou my plenteous board haft fpread; Thou with Oil refresh'd my head; Fill'd by Thee, my cup o'erflows; For thy Love no limit knows: Conftant, to my latest end, This my footsteps fhall attend, And fhall bid thy hallow'd Dome Yield me an eternal home.

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19. The 8th Pfalm tranflated. CHRISTOPHER PITT.

KING eternal and divine! The world is thine alone: Above the stars thy glories fhine,

Above the heav'ns thy throne. How far extends thy mighty name! Where'er the Sun can roll,

That fun thy wonders fhall proclaim,

Thy deeds from pole to pole.

The infant's tongue fhall speak thy power,

And vindicate thy laws!

The tongue that never spoke before

Shall labour in thy cause.

For when I lift my thoughts and eyes,

And view the heav'ns around, Yon stretching waste of azure skies,

With Stars and Planets crown'd; Who in their dance attend the Moon,

The empress of the night,
And pour around her filver throne
Their tributary light:

Lord! what is mortal man? that he
Thy kind regard should share?

What is his Son, who claims from thee,
And challenges thy care?

Next to the bleft Angelic kind, ́ ́
Thy hands created man,
And this inferior world affign'd,
To dignify his fpan.

Him all revere, and all obey

His delegated reign;

The flocks that through the valley ftray,
The herds that graze the plain.
The furious tiger speeds his flight,
And trembles at his power;
In fear of his Superior might,
The lions cease to roar.
Whatever horrid monsters tread
The paths beneath the sea,
Their King at awful distance dread,
And fullenly obey.

O Lord, how far extends thy name!
Where'er the fun can roll,

That fun thy wonders fhall proclaim;
Thy deeds from pole to pole.

§ 20. Pfalm the 24th, paraphrafed. PITT. FAR as the world can stretch its bounds, The Lord is King of all,

His wond''rous power extends around
The circuit of the ball,

For he within the gloomy deeps
Its dark foundations caft,
And rear'd the pillars of the earth
Amid the watery waste.

Who fhall afcend his Sion's hill,

And fee Jehovah there?

Who from his facred fhrine fhall breathe

The facrifice of prayer?

He only whofe unfully'd foul

Fair virtue's paths has trod,

Who with clean hands and heart regards
His neighbour and his God.

On him fhall his indulgent Lord
Diffufive bounties thed;

From God his Saviour fhall defcend
All bleffings on his head.

Of those who seek his righteous ways
Is this the chofen race,

Who bask in all his bounteous fmiles,
And flourish in his grace.
Lift up your stately heads, ye doors,
With hafty rev'rence rise;
Ye everlasting doors, who guard
The paffes of the skies.
Swift from your golden hinges leap,
Your barriers roll away,
Now throw your blazing portals wide,
And burst the gates of day.

For fee! the King of Glory comes

Along th'ethereal road :

The cherubs through your folds shall bear
The triumph of your God.

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Who is this great and glorious King?
Oh! 'tis the Lord, whofe might
Decides the conqueft, and fufpends

The balance of the fight.
Lift up your ftately heads, ye doors,
With hafty rev'rence rife;
Ye everlasting doors, who guard
The paffes of the skies.

Swift from your golden hinges leap,

Your barriers roll away,
Now throw your blazing portals wide,
And burit the gates of day.

For fee! the King of Glory comes

Along th'ethereal road:

The cherubs through your folds fhall bear
The triumphs of their God.

Who is this great and glorious King?
Oh! 'tis the God, whose care
Leads on his Ifrael to the field,
Whofe pow'r controuls the War.

§ 21. Pfalm 29th. PITT.
YE mighty princes, your Oblations bring,


And pay due honours to your awful King;
His boundless power to all the world proclaim,
Bend at his fhrine, and tremble at his name.
For hark! his voice, with unrefifted sway,
Rules and controuls the raging of the Sea;
Within due bounds the mighty ocean keeps,
And in their watery cavern awes the deeps:
Shook by that voice, the nodding groves
Start from their roots, and fly the dreadful found.
The blafted cedars low in duft are laid,
And Lebanon is left without a fhade.
See! when he speaks, the lofty mountains crowd,
And fly for fhelter from the thundering God :
Sirion and Lebanon, like hinds, advance,
And in wild meafures lead th'unwieldy dance.
His voice, his mighty voice, divides the fire,
Back from the blaft the fhrinking flames retire.
Ev'n Cades trembles when Jehovah speaks;
With all his Savages the defart fhakes.
At the dread found the hinds with fear arc ftung,
And in the lonely foreft drop their young:
While in his hallow'd temple all proclaim
His glorious honours, and adore his name.
High o'er the foaming furges of the fea
He fits, and bids the liftening deeps obey:
He reigns o'er all; for ever lafts his power
Till nature finks, and time fhall be no more.
With ftrength the fons of Ifrael fhall he blefs,
And crown our tribes with happiness and peace.

22. P/alm 46th paraphrafed. PITT. ON God we build our fure defence;

In God our hope repose:
His hand protects us in the fight,

And guards us from our woes.
Then, be the earth's unwieldy frame

From its foundations hurl'd, We may, unmov'd with fear, enjoy The ruins of the world.

What though the folid rocks be rent?
In tempefts whirl'd away?

What though the hills fhould burft their roots,
And roll into the Sea?

Thou fea, with dreadful tumults fwell,
And bid thy waters rife
In furious furges, till they dafh

The flood-gates of the skies.
Our minds fhall be ferene and calm,
Like Siloah's peaceful flood;
Whofe foft and filver ftreams refresh
The City of our God.

Within the proud delighted waves
The wanton turrets play;

The streams lead down their humid train,
Reluctant to the Sea.

Amid the scene the temple floats,

With its reflected towers,

Gilds all the furface of the flood,
And dances to the fhores.
With wonder fee what mighty power
Our facred Sion chears,
Lo! there, amidst her ftately walls,
Her God, her God appears.
Fixt on her bafis we shall stand,

And, innocently proud,
Smile on the tumults of the world,
Beneath the wings of God.
See! how their weakness to proclaim,
The heathen tribes engage!
See! how with fruitlefs wrath they burn,
And impotence of rage!

But God has fpoke; and lo! the world,
His terrors to difplay,
With all the melting globe of earth,
Drops filently away.

Still to the mighty Lord of hofts
Securely we refort;

For refuge fly to Jacob's God,

Our fuccour and fupport.
Hither, ve numerous nations, crowd,
In filent rapture ftand,
And fee o'er all the earth difplay'd

The wonders of his hand.
He bids the din of war be still,

And all its tumults ceafe;
He bids the guiltlefs trumpet found
The harmony of peace.
He breaks the tough reluctant bow,
He burits the brazen fpear;
And in the crackling fire his hand

Confumes the blazing ear.

Hear then his formidable voice,

"Be ftill and know the Lord;
"By all the heathen I'll be fear'd;
"By all the earth ador'd."
Still to the mighty Lord of hofts

Securely we refort;
For refuge fly to Jacob's God!

Our fuccour and fupport,



§ 23. Pfalm 90th paraphrafed. PITT.

HY hand, O Lord, through rolling years
Has fav'd us from despair,

From period down to period stretch'd

The profpects of thy care.

Before the world was first conceiv'd,
Before the pregnant earth

Call'd forth the Mountains from her womb,
Who ftruggled to their birth;
Eternal God! thy early days

Beyond duration run,
Ere the first race of startling time
'Was meafur'd by the Sun.
We die; but future nations hear

Thy potent voice again,
Rife at the fummons, and restore
The perish'd race of man;
Before thy comprehenfive fight,
Duration fleets away;
And rapid ages on the wing,
Fly swifter than a day.
As great Jehovah's piercing eyes
Eternity explore,

The longest æra is a night;
A period is an hour.

We at thy mighty call, O Lord,

Our fancy'd beings leave,

Rouz'd from the flattering dream of life,
To fleep within the grave.

Swift from their barrier to their goal

The rapid moments pafs,

And leave poor man, for whom they run,
The emblem of the grass.

In the first morn of life it grows,

And lifts its verdant head;
At noon decays, at evening dies,
And withers in the mead.
We in the glories of thy face

Our fecret fins furvey,
And fee how gloomy thofe appear;
How pure and radiant they.
To death as our appointed goal
Thy anger drives us on;
To that full period fix'd at length
This tale of life is done.
With winged fpeed, to stated bounds
And limits we must fly,
While feventy rolling funs complete
Their circles in the sky.

Or if ten more around us roll,

'Tis labour, woe, and strife,
Till we at length are quite drawn down
To the last dregs of life.

But who, O Lord, regards thy wrath,
Though dreadful and fevere?
That wrath, whatever fear he feels,
Is equal to his fear.

So teach us, Lord, to count our days,
And eye their conftant race,
To meafure what we want in time,
By wifdom and by grace.

With us repent, and on our hearts

Thy choiceft graces thed,
And show'r from thy celeftial throne
Thy bleffings on our head.
Oh! may thy mercy crown us here,
And come without delay;

Then our whole course of life will feem
One glad triumphant day..

Now the bleft years of joy reftore,
For thofe of grief and ftrife,
And with one pleasant drop allay

The bitter draught of life.

Thy wonders to the world display,
Thy fervants to adorn,
That may delight their future fons,
And children yet unborn;

Thy beams of Majefty diffufe;

With them thy great commands, And bid profperity attend

The labours of our hands.

§ 24. Pfalm 144th paraphrafed. PITT, MY foul, in raptures rife to blefs the Lord, Who taught my hands to draw thefatal fword; Led by his arm, undaunted I appear

In the firft ranks of death, and front of war.
He taught me firft the pointed fpear to wield,
And mow the glorious harveft of the field.
By him infpir'd, from ftrength toftrength I paft,
Plung'd through the troops, and laid the battle

In him my hopes I center and repose, [waste.
He guards my life, and fhields me from my foes.
He held his ample buckler o'er my head,
And screen'd me trembling in the mighty fhade:
Against all hoftile violence and power,
He was my fword, my bulwark, and my tower.
He o'er my people will maintain my fway,
And teach my willing fubjects to obey.

Lord! what is man, of vile and humble birth, Sprung with his kindred reptiles from the earth, That he fhould thus thy fecret counfels fhare? Or what his fon, who challenges thy care? Why does thine eye regard this nothing, man? His life a point, his measure but a span! The fancy'd pageant of a moment made, Swift as a dream, and fleeting as a fhade.

Come in thy power, and leave th'ethereal plain, And to thy harnefs'd tempeft give the rein; Yon ftarry arch fhall bend beneath the load, So load the chariot, and fo great the God! Soon as his rapid wheels Jehovah rolls, The folding fkies fhall tremble to the poles: Heaven's gaudy axle with the world fhall fail, Leap from the centre, and unhinge the ball.

Touch'd by thy hands, the lab'ring hills expire, Thick clouds of smoke, and deluges of fire; On the tall groves the red destroyer preys, And wraps th'eternal mountains in the blaze: Full on my foes may all thy lightnings fly, On purple pinions through the gloomy fky.

Extend thy hand, thou kind all-gracious God, Down from the heaven of heavens, thy bright



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