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SECOND PART. 1 Ye rivers, as ye flow,

Convey your Maker's name,
Where'er you winding rove
On every silver stream.
Your cooling flood, His hand ordains,
To bless the plains; Great spring of good!
2 Ye numerous bleating flocks,

Far spreading o'er the plain,
With gentle artless voice,

Alist the humble strain.
To give you food, He bids the field
Its verdure yield,

Extensive good.
3 Ye herds of nobler size,
Who

graze in meads below ; Refound your Maker's praise,

In each responsive low.
You wait his hand; The herbage grows,
The riv'let flows At his command.
4 Ye feather'd warblers, come,

And bring your sweetest lays ;
And tune the sprightly song

To your Creator's praise.
His work you are, He tun'd your voice,
And you rejoice

Beneath his care.

THIRD PART.

Ye trees which form the fhade,
Or bend the loaded bough
With fruits of sweetest taste,
Your Maker's bounty show.
From him you rofe, Your vernal suits
And autumn fruits His hand bestow's.

2 Ye lovely verdant fields,

In all your green array,
Though filent, speak his praise

Who makes you bright and gay.
While we in you,' With future bread,

Profusely spread, His goodness views 3

Ye flowers, which bloom around
A thousand beauteous dyes,
Your fragrant odours breathe,
A grateful sacrifice :
To him whose word Gave all your bloom.

And sweet perfume; All bounteous Lord! 4 But, 0, from human tongues

Should nobler praises flow;
And every thankful heart
With warm devotion glow.
Your voices raise, Ye highly blest,

Above the rest Declare his praife.
5 Affist mie, gracious God,
· My heart, my voice inspire ;

Then shall I grateful join

The universal choir. Thy grace can raise My heart and tongue, And tune my long To lively praise.

Mrs. STEILE.

I falli CXLVIII. Particular Metre. [X]

EGIN, my foul, th' exalted lay;
Let each euraptur'd thought obey,

And praise th' Alinighty name ;
Lo! heav'n, and earth, and feas, and skies,
In one melodiours concert rise,

To fwell th' inspiring theme:

2. Ye angels, spread the joyful sound,
While all th' adoring throngs around

His wondrous mercy sing;
Let every lift'ning saint above,
Wake all the tuneful foul of love,

And touch the loudest strain.

3 Thou heaven of heavens, his vast abode, Ye clouds, proclaim your Maker, God,

Ye thunders, speak his power ; Lo ! on the lightning's rapid wings, In triumph rides the King of kings, Th' astonish'd worlds adore.

roll ;

Ye deeps, with roaring billows rise,
To join the thunder of the fisies,
Praise him who bids

you
His praise in softer notes declare,
Each whisp'ring breeze of yielding air,

And breathe it to the soul.
Wake, ail ye soaring throng, and fing;
Ye cheerful warblers of the fpring,

Harmonious anthems raise į
To him who shap'd your finer mould,
Who tipt your glittering wings with gold,

And tun'd your voice to praise.
Let man, by nobler passions sway'd,
The feeling heart, the reas'ning head,

In heavenly praise employ ;
Spread the Creator's name around,
Till heay'ns wide arch repeat the sound,
The general burst of joy.

B, Williams's Collection:U

Plalm CXLIX. Particular Metre.

Thanksgiving.
PRAISE ye the Lord,

Prepare your glad voice,
His praife in the great
Assembly to sing.
In their great Creator
Let all men rejoice,
And heirs of salvation

Be glad in their King.
2 Let them his great name

Devoutly adore ;
In loud swelling strains
His praises express,
Who graciously opens
His bountiful store,
Their wants to relieve, and

His children to bless. 3 With glory adorna,

His people shall fing
To God, who defence
And plenty supplies :
Their loud acclamations
To him their great King,
Through earth shall be founded,

And reach to the fkies. 4 Ye angels above,

His glories who've fung,
In loftiert notes,
Now publish his praise :
We niortals delighted,
Would borrow your tongue ;
Would join in your numbers,
And chant to your lays.

TATE; varied

Plalm CL. Long Metre.

[*] Praise. DRAISE ye the Lord, let praise employ,

In his own courts, your songs of joy ; The spacious firmament around Shall echo back the joyfui found. Recount his works in strains divine, His wond'rous works, how bright they shine! Praise him for all his mighty deeds, Whose greatness all your praise exceeds. Awake the trumpet's piercing sound, To spread your facred pleasure round; While softer music tunes the lute, The warbling harp, the breathing flute. Te virgin train, with joy advance, To praise him in the graceful dance ; Awake each voice, and strike each string, And to the solemn organ sing. Let the loud cymbal sound on high,

To softer, deeper notes reply;
Harmonious let the concert rise,

And bear the rapture to the skies.
let all whom life and breath inspire
Attend and join the blissful choir j
But chiefly ye who know his word,
Adore, and love, and praise the Lord !

Mrs. STEELE.

END OF THE PSALMS.

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