Whose guilt thy boundless love hath veil❜d, 4 For this shall all who Thee adore, PSALM XXXIII. P. M. 1 YE holy souls, in God rejoice, Your maker's praise becomes your voice; 2 He gathers the wide-flowing seas, 3 Let mortals tremble, and adore A God of such resistless pow'r, Nor dare indulge their feeble rage: Vain are your thoughts, and weak your But His eternal counsel stands, [hands; And rules the world from age to age. PSALM XXXIV. C. M. 1 THROUGH all the changing scenes of life, In trouble and in joy, The praises of my God shall still 3 O make but trial of His love, How bless'd they are, and only they, 4 Fear Him, ye saints, and you will then ་་་་་ PSALM XXXIV. Second Version. C. M. 1 LET him, who length of life desires, And prosp❜rous days would see, Our life advancing to its close, 3 God of my fathers! here, as they, A transient guest; thy works admire, And instant to my home retire: Where shall I then my refuge see? On whom repose my hope, but Thee? 4 Before thy throne my knees I bend; To Thee my ceaseless pray'rs ascend:"O spare me, Lord, awhile O spare ; 66 My strength renew, my heart prepare, "Ere, life's short circuit wander'd o'er, "I vanish, and am seen no more. 66 1 I WAITED long, and sought the Lord, And patiently did bear; At length He did to me accord My voice and cry to hear. 2 He brought me from the dreadful pit, 3 To me He taught a psalm of praise, And sing new songs of thanks always PSALM XLI. C. M. 1 HAPPY the man whose tender care Relieves the poor distrest: When he's by trouble compass'd round 2 If he, in languishing estate, 3 Let therefore Israel's Lord and God PSALM XLII. C. M. 1 As pants the hart for cooling streams, When heated in the chace; So longs my soul, O God, for Thee, 2 For Thee, my God, the living God, O! when shall I behold thy face, 3 Tears are my constant food, while thus Insulting foes upbraid : "Deluded wretch! where's now thy God? 4 I sigh whene'er my musing thoughts PSALM XLVI. P. M. 1 GOD is our refuge in distress, Torn piecemeal by the roaring tide. 2 A gentler stream with gladness still The city of our Lord shall fill, The royal seat of God most high: 3 In tumults, when the heathen rag'd, He thunder'd and dispers'd their pow'rs. The Lord of Hosts conducts our arms, Our tow'r of refuge in alarms, Our father's guardian God, and ours. |