2 When numerous bosts besiege me round,
My courage shall maintain its ground;
Tho' war should rise in dread array,
God is my strength, my hope, my stay.
3 This only bliss my heart desires,
To this my ardent wish aspires,
In God's own house to spend my days,
To hear his word and speak his praise.
4 When troubles rise, my guardian God
Will hide me safe in his abode;
Firm as a rock my hope shall stand,
Sustain'd by his almighty hand.
5 Should every earthly friend depart,
Should love forsake a parent's heart;
The God on whom my hopes depend,
Will be my father and my friend.
6 Ye humble souls, in every strait
On God with faith and patience wait;
His hand shall life and strength afford;
Wait, therefore, ever on the Lord.
PSALM XXVIII. Common Metre.
The humble Suppliant trusting in God.
10 LORD, my rock, to thee I cry,
In sighs consume my breath;
Hear me, O Lord, or I shall be
Like those who sleep in death.
2 Regard my supplication, Lord,
The cries that I repeat,
With weeping eyes and lifted hands,
Before thy mercy seat.
3 If wicked men thy works despise,
Nor will thy grace adore,
Thy justice shall avenge the cause,
And build them up no more.
4 But I, with gratitude inspir'd,
Thy praises will resound;
From whom, the cries of my distress
A gracious answer found.
5 As thou hast fill'd my heart with joy,
'Tis just that I should raise
The cheerful tribute of my thanks,
And celebrate thy praise.
6 Preserve thy people, Lord, and deign
Thy heritage to bless;
Crown them with plenty and with peace,
With honour and success.
PSALM XXIX. Long Metre.
The Majesty of God in Thunder.
1 GIVE to the Lord, ye sons of fame,
Give to the Lord renown and power;
Ascribe due honours to his name,
And his eternal might adore.
2 The Lord proclaims his power aloud
O'er the vast ocean, and the land;
His voice dissolves the watery cloud,
And lightnings blaze at his command.
3 When he from heaven in thunder speaks,
With majesty and terror crown'd;
His voice the stately cedar breaks,
And throws its scatter'd limbs around.
4 His voice divides the flames of fire,
And forked streaks of lightning sends ;
The mountain trembles at his ire,
The lofty forest lowly bends.
5 His lightning rends the firmest rock,
And pierces deep the solid ground;
The hinds affrighted feel the shock,
And shudder at the awful sound.
6 The Lord sits sovereign on the flood,
The Thunderer reigns forever king
But makes his church his blest abode,
Where we his praise securely sing.
7 In gentler language, here the Lord
The counsels of his grace imparts;
Amidst the raging storm, his word
Speaks peace and comfort to our hearts.
WATTS and TATE united and varied.
PSALM XXX. Common Metre.
• BENEATH my God's protecting arm,
How did my soul rejoice!
And fondly hop'd no future harm
Would interrupt my joys.
2 Lord, 'twas thy favour fix'd my rest;
Thy shining face withdrew,
Then troubles fill'd my anxious breast,
And pain'd my soul anew.
3 Again to thee, O gracious God,
I rais'd my mournful eyes ;
To thee I spread my woes abroad,
With supplicating cries.
4 What glory can my death afford,
In the dark grave confin'd?
Shall senseless dust adore the Lord,
Or call thy truth to mind?
5 Hear, O my God, in mercy hear,
Attend my plaintive cry;
Be thou, my gracious helper, near,
And bid my sorrows fly.
6 Again I hear the voice divine ;
New joys exulting bound;
My robes of mourning I resign,
And gladness girds me round.
7 Then let my utmost glory be
To raise thy honours high;
Nor let my gratitude to thee
In guilty silence die.
8 To thee, my gracious God, I raise
My thankful heart and tongue ;
O be thy goodness and thy praise
My everlasting song.
PSALM XXX. Long Metre.
Recovery from Sickness.
1 FIRM was my health, my day was bright, And I presum'd 'twould ne'er be night; Fondly I said within my heart,
" Pleasure and peace shall ne'er depart." 2 But I forgot thine arm was strong, Which made my mountain stand so long; Soon as thy face began to hide,
My health was gone, my comfort dy'd.
3 Corrected by a Father's rod,
I cry'd aloud to thee, my God; "If laid in dust, can I declare
"Thy truth, or sing thy goodness there?
4 "Hear me, O God of grace," I said, "And bring me from among the dead;" Thy word rebuk'd the pains I felt, Thy pardoning love remov'd my guilt.
5 My sad complaints in praises end,
And tears of gratitude descend;
I throw my sackcloth on the ground,
And ease and gladness gird me round.
6 My tongue, the glory of my frame,
Thy power and goodness shall proclaim;
Thy praise shall sound thro' earth and heav'n,
For sickness heal'd, and sins forgiv'n.
1 COME, O ye saints, your voices raise
To Ged in grateful songs;
And let the memory of his grace
Inspire your hearts and tongues.
2 His frown what morta' can sustain ?
But soon his anger dies;
His life-restoring smile again
Returns, and sorrow flies.
3 Her deepest gloom, when sorrow spreads,
And light and hope depart,
His face celestial morning sheds,
And joy revives the heart.
4 To thee, my God, oppress'd with grief,
I breath'd my humble cry;
Thy mercy brought divine relief,
And wip'd my weeping eye.
5 Thy mercy chas'd the shades of death,
And snatch'd me from the grave;
O may thy praise employ that breath
Which mercy deigns to save !
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