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14 O God, the Proud againft me rife,

And violent men are met

To feek my life; and in their eyes

No fear of thee have fet..

15 But thou, Lord, art the God moft mild,
Readieft thy grace to fhew;
Slow to be angry, and art styl'd
Moft merciful, most true.

16 O turn to me thy face at length,
And me have mercy on;

Unto thy fervant give thy ftrength,
And fave thy hand-maid's Son.
17 Some fign of good to me afford,
And let my foes then fee,

And be afham'd, becaufe thou, Lord,
Doft help and comfort me.

'A'

PSAL. LXXXVII.

Mong the holy Mountains bigh
Is his foundation fast;

There feated 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 fiere,
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,
Philiftia full of fcorn,

And Tyre with Ethiops' utmost ends,
Lo! this man there was born.
5 But twice that praise shall in our car
Be faid of Sion laft,

This and this man was born in her ;
High God fhall fix her faft.

6 The Lord fhall write it in a Scroll
That ne'er fhall be out-worn,
When he the nations doth enroll,
That this man there was born.

7 Both they who fing, and they who dance,
With facred Songs are there;

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

'L

PSAL. LXXXVIII,

Ord God, thou doft me fave and keep,
All day to thee I cry;

And all night long before thee weep,

Before thee proftrate lie.

2 Into thy prefence let my pray'r

With fighs devout ascend;

And to my cries, that ceafelefs are,

Thine ear with favour bend.

3 For

3 For cloy'd with woes, and trouble fore,
Surcharg'd, my Soul doth lie;
My life at death's uncbearful door
Unto the grave draws nigh.

4 Reckon'd I am with them that pafs
Down to the difmal pit ;

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

* Heb. A man without manly frength.

5 From life discharg'd and parted quite,
Among the dead to fleep,

And like the flain in bloody fight,
That in the Grave lie deep:
Whom thou remembereft no more,
Doft never more regard

Them from thy hand deliver'd o'er
Death's hideous boufe bath barr'd.
6 Thou in the lowest Pit profound
Haft fet me all forlorn,

Where thickest darkness bovers round,

In horrid deeps to mourn.

Thy wrath, from which no shelter faves,

Full fore doth prefs on me;

* Thou break'ft upon me all thy waves. * The Hebr.

And all thy waves break me.

bears both.

8 Thou doft 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 forrow, and affliction great,

Mine Eye grows dim and dead;

Lord,

K

AYLOR I

BEQU

THE C

ROBERT

OF BALL

4.

done by

n.

ful Son, von, Land,

nd,

Aed, ad

recoil,

il:

ike Rams

Lambs.

Mountains?

Fountains?

gaft

1;

in crush,

les gufh.

PSALM

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