5 His mercy never shall remove
From men of heart fincere;

He faves the foul whofe humble love
Is join'd with holy fear.

6 [His ftubborn foes his fword fhall flay,
And pierce their hearts with pain;
But none that ferve the Lord fhall fay,
"They fought his aid in vain."
7 My lips fhall dwell upon his praife,
And fpread his fame abroad;
Let all the fons of Adam raife
The honours of their God.]

PSALM CXLVI. (L.M.)
Praife to God for his goodness and truth.
I PRAISE

RAISE ye the Lord, my heart shall join
In work fo pleasant, fo divine;

Now while the flesh is mine abode,
And when my foul afcends to God.

2 Praife fhall employ my nobleft pow'rs,
While immortality endures:

My days of praise fhall ne'er be past,

While life, and thought, and being last. 3 Why should I make a man my truft; Princes muft die and turn to duft; Their breath departs, their pomp and pow'r, And thoughts all vanish in an hour. Happy the man whofe hopes rely

On Ifr'el's God; he made the sky,

And earth, and feas, with all their train:
And none shall find his promife vain.
His truth for ever ftands fecure;
le faves th' oppreft, he feeds the poor;
e fends the lab'ring confcience peace,
ad grants the pris'ner fweet releafe.

6 The Lord hath eyes to give the blind ;
The Lord fupports the finking mind;
He helps the ftranger in diftress,
The widow and the fatherless.

7 He loves his faints, he knows them well,
But turns the wicked down to hell.:
Thy God, O Zion, ever reigns!
Praise him in everlasting strains.

PSALM CXLVI. As the 113th Pfal..

Praife to God for his goodness and truth.

I'LL praife my Maker with
my breath;
And when my voice is loft in death,
Praise fhall employ my nobler pow'rs s
My days of praife fhall ne'er be past,
While life, and thought, and being laff,
Or immortality endures.

2 Why should I make a man my trust ?-
Princes muft die and turn to duft;
Vain is the help of flesh and blood
Their breath departs, their pomp and pow'
And thoughts all vanish in an hour;
Nor can they make their promife good.

3 Happy the man whofe hopes rely
On Ifr'el's God; he made the sky,

And earth, and feas, with all their train; His truth for ever ftands fecure!

He faves th' oppreft, he feeds the poor;

And none shall find his promife vain. 4 The Lord hath eyes to give the blind; The Lord fupports the finking mind;

He fends the lab'ring confcience peace ;;
He helps the stranger in diftrefs,
The widow and the fatherless,

And grants the pri'sner fweet release.

5 He loves his faints, he knows them well,
But turns the wicked down to hell:
Thy God, O Zion, ever reigns';
Let ev'ry tongue, let ev'ry age,
In this exalted work engage:

Praise him in everlasting strains.

6 I'll praise him while he lends me breath; And when my voice is loft in death, Praise fhall employ my nobler pow'rs: My days of praise fhall ne'er be past, While life, and thought, and being laft, Or immortality endures.

PSALM CXLVII. Firft Part. (L. M.) The divine nature, providence, and grace.

1 PRAISE

1

RAISE ye the Lord; 'tis good to raise
Our hearts and voices in his praife;
His nature and his works invite
To make this duty our delight.
2 The Lord builds up Jerufalem,
And gathers nations to his name :
His mercy melts the stubborn foul,
And makes the broken fpirit whole.
3 He form'd the stars, thofe heav'nly flames,
He counts their numbers, calls their names;
His wifdom's vaft, and knows no bound,
A deep where all our thoughts are drown'd.
. Great is our Lord, and great his might;
And all his glories infinite:

He crowns the meek, rewards the juft,
And treads the wicked to the dust.

PAUSE.

Sing to the Lord, exalt him high,
Who fpreads his clouds all round the sky;
There he prepares the fruitful rain,
Nor lets the drops defcend in vain.

6 He makes the grafs the hills adorn,
And clothes the fmiling fields with corn:
The beasts with food his hands fupply.
And the young ravens when they cry.
7 What is the creature's skill or force ?
The fprightly man, the warlike horse,
The nimble wit, the active limb?
All are too mean delights for him.
8 But faints are lovely in his fight;
But views his children with delight;
He fees their hope, he knows their fear,
And looks and loves his image there.

PSALM CXLVII. Second Part.
Summer and winter.

A fong for Great Britain.
OBRITAIN, praife thy mighty God,

And make his honours known abroad;
He bade the ocean round thee flow;
Not bars of brafs could guard thee fo.
2 Thy children are fecure and bleft;
Thy fhores have peace, thy cities reft ;
He feeds thy fans with fineft wheat,
And adds his bleffing to their meat.
3 Thy changing seasons he ordains,
Thine early and thy latter rains;
His flakes of fnow like wool he fends,
And thus the fpringing corn defends.
With hoary froft he ftrews the ground;
His hail defcends with clatt'ring found
Where is the man fo vainly bold,
That dares defy his dreadful cold?

5 He bids the fouthern breezes blow!
The ice diffolves, the waters flow:
But he hath nobler works and ways,
To call the Britons to his praife.
6 To all the ifle his laws are shown;
His gofpel thro' the nation known;
He hath not thus reveal'd his word
To ev'ry land: Praise ye the Lord.

PSALM CXLVII. 7-9, 13-18.
The feafons of the year.

WITH fongs and honours founding loud,

Addrefs the Lord on high;

Over the heav'ns he fpreads his cloud,
And waters veil the sky.

2 He fends his fhow'rs of bleffings down,
To cheers the plains below;

He makes the grafs the mountains crown,
And corn in vallies grow.

3 He gives the grazing ox his meat;
He hears the ravens cry:-

But man who tastes his finest wheat,
Should raise his honours high.

His fteady counfels change the face
Of the declining year;

He bids the fun cut short his race,
And wint'ry days appear.

His hoary froft, his fleecy fnow,
Defcend and clothe the ground;
The liquid ftreams forbear to flow,
In icy fetters bound.

Then, from his dreadful ftores on
He pours the ratt'ling hail,

high

he wretch that dares his God defy,
Shall find his courage fail.