6 Thy words like filver feven times try'd, Thro' ages fhall endure;

The men who in thy truth confide,

Shall find the promise fure.

WATTS.

Plaim XIII. Common Metre. [b]
Complaint under Temptation.

OW long wilt thou conceal thy face?
My God, how long delay ?

Hi

When wilt thou send thy heavenly rays
To drive my fears away?

2 How long fhall my diftreffed foul
Struggle and toil in vain?

3

Thy word can all my foes control,
Ánd ease my raging pain.

Be thou my fun, and thou my fhield,
My foul in fafety keep;

Make hafte, before my eyes are feal'd
In death's eternal fleep.

How would the tempter boaft aloud,
If I become his prey,

And all the hofts of hell grow proud
At thy fo long delay!

5 But they fhall fly at thy rebuke,
And Satan hide his head;

He knows the terrors of thy look,
And hears thy voice with dread.

Thou wilt difplay that fovereign grace
On which my hopes have hung;
I fhall employ my lips in praife,
And victory fhall be fung.

WATTE

F

Pfalm XIV. Common Metre.

Univerfal Depravity.

TOOLS in their hearts believe and fay
"That all religion's vain :
"There is no God that reigns on high,

"Or minds th' affairs of men."

2 From thoughts fo dreadful and profane
Corrupt difcourfe proceeds;

And by their impious hands are done
Abominable deeds.

3 The Lord, from his celeftial throne,
Look'd down on things below;
To find the men that fought his grace,
Or did his juftice know:

4 He faw that all were gone aftray,
Their practice all the fame;
That none did fear his Maker's hand,
That none did love his name.

5 Their tongues are us'd to speak deceit,
Their flanders never ceafe;
How swift to mischief are their feet,
Nor know the paths of peace!

6 Such feeds of fin, that bitter root,
In every heart are found;
Nor will they bear diviner fruit,
Till grace refine the ground.

WATTS.

[b

To thy bleft courts repair?

that may

And whilft he bows before thy throne,
Shall find acceptance there?

Tis he, whofe truly honeft heart
By rules of virtue moves;

Whofe generous tongue difdains to fpeak
The thing his heart difproves.

Who never will a flander forge,
His neighbour's fame to wound;
Nor hearken to a false report,

By malice whisper'd round.

4 Who vice, when dreft in pomp and power, Can treat with just neglect;

And piety, tho' cloth'd in rags,
Religiously refpect.

5 Who to his plighted vows and trust
Has ever firmly ftood;

And tho' he promife to his lofs,
He makes his promise good.

6 Who feeks not in oppreffive ways
His treasure to employ;

Whom no reward can ever bribe
The guiltlefs to destroy.

The man, who by this fteady courfe

Has happinefs infur'd,

When earth's foundations fhake, fhall ftand,

By Providence fecur'd.

TATE.

Pfalm XV. Long Metre. [* or b

The Virtues of a Cbriftian.

WHO fhall afcend thy heavenly place,

Great God, and dwell before thy face?

The man who loves religion now,

And humbly walks with God below.

2 Whofe hands are pure, whofe heart is clean, Whofe lips ftill fpeak the thing they mean;

The Death and Resurrection of Chrift.
SET the Lord before my face,

He bears my courage up;

My heart and tongue their joys exprefs,
My flefh fhall reft in hope.

2 "My fpirit, Lord, thou wilt not leave
Where fouls departed are;

3

Nor quit my body to the grave,
To fee corruption there.

"Thou wilt reveal the path of life,
And raise me to thy throne;
Thy courts immortal pleafure give,
Thy prefence, joys unknown."

4 Thus in the name of Chrift the Lord
The holy David fung;
And Providence fulfils the word
Of his prophetic tongue.

Jefus, whom every faint adores,
Was crucified and flain;

Behold the tomb its prey reftores!
Behold he lives again!

When shall my feet arife and stand

On heaven's eternal hills?

There fits the Son, at God's right hand,.
And there the Father fmiles.

WATT

Pfalm XVII. Common Metre.
The transforming Vision of Cod.

MY God, the vints of thy face

Afford fuperior joy

To all the flattering world can give,
Or mortal hopes employ.

2 But clouds and darkness intervene,
My brightest joys decline;
And earth's gay trifles oft enfuare
This wandering heart of mine.

3 Lord, guide this wandering heart to thee;
Unfatisfy'd I ftray;

Break through the fhades of fenfe and fin,
With thy enlivening ray.

40 let thy beams refplendent fhine,
And every cloud remove;
Transform my powers, and fit my foul
For happier scenes above.

5 Lord, raife my faith, my hope, my heart,
To thofe tranfporting joys;
Then fhall I fcorn each little fnare,
Which this vain world employs.

6 Then, though I fink in death's cold fleep,
To life I fhall awake;

And, in the likeness of my God,
Of heavenly blifs partake.

Mrs. STEELE,

Pfalm XVII. Long Metre. [*]

W

The Refurrection.

HAT finners value I refign;

Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine; I shall behold thy blifsful face,

And ftand complete in righteoufness.
1 This life's a dream, an empty show ;
But the bright world to which I go,
Hath joys fubftantial and fincere;
When fhall I wake and find me there!
30 glorious hour, O bleft abode!
I fhall be near and like my God,
C