2 On every fide I caft mine eye, 3 Then, mighty God, to thee I cry'd, WATTS and MERRICK, varied. Plalm CXLIII. Long Metre. Complaint and Hope. HEAR, O my God, with pity hear, In mercy anfwer all my prayer, 3 4 I call to mind the former days; Thine ancient works declare thy name, i [b] In thee I trust, my guide, my light, Mrs. STEELE. Pfalm CXLIV. Long Metre. [or Divine Protection, Peace and Plenty. DESCE ESCEND from heaven, Almighty Lord, And earth fhall tremble at thy word; The fmoking hills, with confcious fear, Shall own their fov'reign Maker near. 2 Whilft thy keen pointed lightnings fly Like flaming arrows through the fky; Our foes difpers'd fhall rife no more, Nor dare the terrors of thy power. 3 Olet thy potent arm control Thefe threat'ning waves that round us roll; These fons of vanity that rife, With fraudful hands and impious lies. 4 Then shall our fons, beneath thy care, Grow up like plants erect and fair; Our daughters fhall like pillars rife, Where fplendid buildings charm the eyes. Then plenty fhall our ftores increase, Plenty, the lovely child of peace; 5 The flock its fleecy wealth fhall yield, And pour its thousands o'er the field. 6 The well fed ox fhall then afford His cheerful labours to his lord; No more fhall fons of plunder reign, Nor fons of mifery complain. In all thy works, immortal rays Of power and goodness fhine. Mrs. STELLE. Pfalm CXLV. Third Part. C. M. [*] G Divine Power and Compassion. REAT God, while nature speaks thy praise, Thy faints fhall tune diviner lays, And love infpire their fongs. 2 Thy power and goodness they fhall fing, Thy wond'rous deeds, Almighty King, 3 Thy kingdom, Lord, forever stands, 4 He that invokes the God of grace, To all who humbly feek his face. 5 He knows the pain his fervants feel; 6 His mercy never shall remove From men of heart fincere; He faves the fouls whofe humble love 7 His praise, a most delightful theme, WATTS and STEELE. Pfalm CXLVI. Long Metre. [*] No Truft in Man, but in God. HE praises of my God and King, 'fing, 3 He breathes, he thinks, but foon he dies! His ftedfaft truth unchanging fhines. Mrs. STEELF. Plaim CXLVI. Six Line L. M. D Praife for divine Goodness. 'LL praife my Maker with breath, And when my voice is loft in death, Why should, I make 3 Happy the man whofe hopes rely And earth and feas, with all their train; His truth forever ftands fecure; He faves th' opprefs'd, he feeds the poor, And none fhall find his promise vain. 4 The Lord hath eyes to give the blind; The Lord fupports the fuking mind; He fends the lab'ring confcience peace; He helps the ftranger in diftrefs, The widow and the fatherlefs, And grants the pris'ner fweet releafe. 5 He loves his faints, he knows them well, Let every tongue, let every age |