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5 Wilt thou be angry without end,
For ever angry thus?

Wilt thou thy frowning ire extend,
From age to age on us?

6 Wilt thou not turn and hear our voice, And us again revive,

That so thy people may rejoice,
By thee preserved alive?

7 Cause us to see thy goodness, Lord,
To us thy mercy show;

Thy saving health to us afford,
And life in us renew.

8 And now, what God the Lord will speak I will go straight and hear,

For to his people he speaks peace,
And to his saints full dear.

To his dear saints he will speak peace;
But let them never more
Return to folly, but surcease
To trespass as before.

9 Surely, to such as do him fear
Salvation is at hand;

And glory shall ere long appear
To dwell within our land.

10 Mercy and truth, that long were missed,
Now joyfully are met;

Sweet Peace and Righteousness have kissed,
And hand in hand are set.

11 Truth from the earth, like to a flower, Shall bud and blossom then;

And Justice, from her heavenly bower,
Look down on mortal men.

12 The Lord will also then bestow
Whatever thing is good;

Our land shall forth in plenty throw
Her fruits to be our food.

13 Before him Righteousness shall go,
His royal harbinger:

Then will he come, and not be slow;
His footsteps can not err.

PSALM LXXXVI.

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.

2 Preserve my soul; for I have trod
Thy ways, and love the just;
Save thou thy servant, O my God!
Who still in thee doth trust.

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16 O, turn to me thy face at length,

And me have mercy on;
Unto thy servant give thy strength,
And save thy handmaid's son.

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.

PSALM LXXXVII.

1 AMONG the holy mountains high
Is his foundation fast;
There seated in his sanctuary,
His temple there is plac'd.

2 Sion's fair gates the Lord loves more 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 Of thee abroad are spoke;

4 I mention Egypt, where proud kings Did our forefathers yoke:

I mention Babel to my friends
Philistia full of scorn;

And Tyre with Ethiops' utmost ends,
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.

6 The Lord shall write it in a scroll
That ne'er shall be outworn,
When he the nations doth enrol,

That this man there was born.

7 Both they who sing, and they who dance, With sacred songs are there;

In thee fresh brooks, and soft streams glance, And all my fountains clear.

PSALM LXXXVIII.

1 LORD God! that dost me save and keep, All day to thee I cry;

And all night long before thee weep,
Before thee prostrate lie.

2 Into thy presence let my prayer

With sighs devout ascend;
And to my cries, that ceaseless are,

Thine ear with favour bend.

3 For, cloy'd with woes and trouble sore,
Surcharg'd my soul doth lie;
My life, at Death's uncheerful door,
Unto the grave draws nigh.

4 Reckon❜d I am with them that pass
Down to the dismal pit;

I am a man, but weak, alas!
And for that name unfit.

5 From life discharg'd and parted quite
Among the dead to sleep;
And like the slain in bloody fight,
That in the grave lie deep.

Whom thou rememberest no more,
Dost never more regard,
Them, from thy hand deliver'd o'er,
Death's hideous house hath barr'd.

6 Thou in the lowest pit profound
Hast set me all forlorn,

Where thickest darkness hovers round,
In horrid deeps to mourn.

7 Thy wrath, from which no shelter saves,
Full sore doth press on me;
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,
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.

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,
On whom the grave hath hold?
Or they, who in perdition dwell,
Thy faithfulness unfold?

12 In darkness can thy mighty hand
Or wondrous acts be known?
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 prayer doth hie
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?

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; Thy threatenings 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:

They fly me now whom I have lov'd,
And as in darkness are.

A PARAPHRASE ON PSALM CXIV.

This and the following Psalm were done by the
Author at fifteen years old.

WHEN the bless'd seed of Terah's faithful son,
After long toil, their liberty had won;
And past from Pharian fields to Canaan land,
Led by the strength of the Almighty's hand;
Jehovah's wonders were in Israel shown,
His praise and glory was in Israel known:
That saw the troubled Sea, and shivering fled,
And sought to hide his froth-becurled head
Low in the earth; Jordan's clear streams recoil,
As a faint host that hath receiv'd the foil.
The high huge-bellied mountains skip, like rams
Amongst their ewes; the little hills, like lambs.
Why fled the ocean? and why skipt the mountains?
Why turned Jordan tow'rd his crystal fountains?
Shake, Earth; and at the presence be aghast
Of him that ever was, and aye shall last;
That glassy floods from rugged rocks can crush,
And make soft rills from fiery flint-stones gush.

PSALM CXXXVI.

LET us, with a gladsome mind,
Praise the Lord, for he is kind;
For his mercies aye endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
Let us blaze his name abroad,
For of gods he is the God.

For his, &c.

O, let us his praises tell,

Who doth the wrathful tyrants quell, For his, &c.

Who with his miracles, doth make
Amazed Heaven and Earth to shake.
For his, &c.

Who, by his wisdom, did create
The painted heavens so full of state.
For his, &c.

Who did the solid earth ordain
To rise above the watery plain.

For his, &c.

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THE

POETICAL WORKS

OF

DR. EDWARD YOUNG.

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