10 The dreadful burden of thy wrath
In mercy soon remove,

Lest my frail flesh, too weak to bear
The heavy load should prove.

11 For when thou chastenest man for sin,
Thou mak'st his beauty fade,
(So vain a thing is he!) like cloth
By fretting moths decayed.

12 Lord, hear my cry, accept my tears,
And listen to my prayer,
Who sojourn like a stranger here,
As all my fathers were.

13 O! spare me yet a little time,
My wasted strength restore,
Before I vanish quite from hence,
And shall be seen no more.

זי

PSALM 40.

WAITED meekly for the Lord,
Till he vouchsafed a kind reply,
Who did his gracious ear afford,

And heard from heaven my humble cry.

2 He took me from the dismal pit,

When foundered deep in miry clay;
On solid ground he placed my feet,

And suffered not my steps to stray.
3 The wonders he for me has wrought
Shall fill my mouth with songs of praise,
And others, to his worship brought,
To hopes of like deliverance raise.
4 For blessings shall that man reward,
Who on the Almighty Lord relies,
Who treats the proud with disregard,
And hates the hypocrite's disguise.
5 Who can the wondrous works recount,
Which thou, O God, for us hast wrought?
The treasures of thy love surmount

The power of numbers, speech, and thought. 6 I've learned that thou hast not desired

Offerings and sacrifice alone;

Nor blood of guiltless beasts required
For man's transgression to atone.

7 I therefore come-come to fulfil
The oracles thy books impart;
8 'Tis my delight to do thy will;
Thy law is written in my heart.

PART II.

9 In full assemblies I have told

Thy truth and righteousness at large;
Nor did, thou know'st, my lips withhold
From uttering what thou gav'st in charge ;—
10 Nor kept within my breast confined
Thy faithfulness and saving grace;
But preached thy love for all designed,
That all might that, and truth, embrace.
11 Then let those mercies I declared
To others, Lord, extend to me;
Thy loving-kindness my reward,
Thy truth my safe protection be.
12 For I with troubles am distressed,
Too numberless for me to bear;
Nor less with loads of guilt oppressed,
That plunge and sink me to despair.
As soon, alas! may I recount

The hairs of this afflicted head;
My vanished courage they surmount,
And fill my drooping soul with dread.

PART III.

13 But, Lord, to my relief draw near,
For never was more pressing need;
In my deliverance, Lord, appear,
And add to that deliverance speed.
14 Confusion on their heads return,

Who to destroy my soul combine;
Let them, defeated, blush and mourn,
Insnared in their own vile design.

15 Their doom let desolation be,

With shame their malice be repaid,
Who mocked my confidence in thee,
And sport of my affliction made;—
16 While those, who humbly seek thy face,
To joyful triumphs shall be raised;

And all, who prize thy saving grace, With me resound, The Lord be praised. 17 Thus, wretched though I am, and poor, Of me the Almighty Lord takes care: Thou God, who only canst restore, To my relief with speed repair.

1

H

PSALM 41.

APPY the man whose tender care
Relieves the poor distressed!

When troubles compass him around,
The Lord shall give him rest.

2 The Lord his life, with blessings crowned,
In safety shall prolong,
And disappoint the will of those
That seek to do him wrong.

3 If he in languishing estate,

Oppressed with sickness, lie, The Lord will easy make his bed, And inward strength supply. 4 Secure of this, to thee, my God, I thus my prayer addressed :"Lord, for thy mercy, heal my soul, "Though I have much transgressed." 5 My cruel foes, with slanderous words, Attempt to wound my fame;

"When shall he die," say they, "and men

Forget his very name?"

6 Suppose they formal visits make,

'Tis all but empty show;

They gather mischief in their hearts,
And vent it where they go.

7,8 With private whispers, such as these,
To hurt me they devise :-
"A sore disease afflicts him now;
"He's fallen, no more to rise."

9 My own familiar bosom friend,
On whom I most relied,

Has me, whose daily guest he was,
With open scorn defied.

10 But thou my sad and wretched state,
mercy, Lord, regard,

In

And raise me up, that all their crimes
May meet their just reward.

11 By this I know thy gracious ear
Is open, when I call,-

Because thou sufferest not my foes
To triumph in my fall.

12 Thy tender care secures my life
From danger and disgrace,

And thou vouchsaf'st to set me still
Before thy glorious face.

13 Let therefore Israel's Lord and God
From age to age be blessed,
And all the people's glad applause
With loud Amens expressed.

PSALM 42.

1 AS pants the hart for cooling streams,

When heated in the chase,

So longs my soul, O God, for thee,
And thy refreshing grace.

2 For thee, my God, the living God,
My thirsty soul doth pine;

O! when shall I behold thy face,
Thou Majesty Divine?

3 Tears are my constant food, while thus
Insulting foes upbraid :-

"Deluded wretch! where's now thy God?
"And where his promised aid?"

4 I sigh, whene'er my musing thoughts
Those happy days present,
When I, with troops of pious friends,
Thy temple did frequent ;-

When I advanced, with songs of praise,

My solemn vows to pay,
And led the joyful sacred throng,
That kept the festal day.

5 Why restless, why cast down, my soul?
Trust God; who will employ

His aid for thee, and change these sighs
To thankful hymns of joy.

6 My soul's cast down, O God, but thinks
On thee and Sion still,

From Jordan's bank, from Hermon's heights,
And Mizar's humbler hill.

7 One trouble calls another on,
And, gathering o'er my head,

Fall spouting down, till round my soul
A roaring sea is spread.

8 But when thy presence, Lord of life,
Has once dispelled this storm,
To thee I'll midnight anthems sing,
And all my vows perform.

9 God of my strength, how long shall I,
Like one forgotten, mourn;
Forlorn, forsaken, and exposed
To my oppressor's scorn?

10 My heart is pierced, as with a sword,
While thus my foes upbraid :-
"Vain boaster, where is now thy God?
"And where his promised aid ?"

11 Why restless, why cast down, my soul?
Hope still; and thou shalt sing
The praise of him who is thy God,
Thy health's eternal Spring.

PSALM 43.

1 JUST Judge of heaven, against my foes thou assert my injured right;

O set me free, my God, from those
That in deceit and wrong delight.
2 Since thou art still my only Stay,
Why leav'st thou me in deep distress?
Why go I mourning all the day,

Whilst me insulting foes oppress?

3 Let me with light and truth be blessed; Be these my guides to lead the way, Till on thy holy hill I rest,

And in thy sacred temple pray.

4 Then will I there fresh altars raise
To God, who is my only Joy;

And well-tuned harps, with songs of praise,
Shall all my grateful hours employ.

5 Why, then, cast down, my soul? and why So much oppressed with anxious care?