SECOND PART. Ye rivers, as ye flow, Convey your Maker's name, Your cooling flood, To blefs the plains; His hand ordains, 2 Ye numerous bleating flocks, Far fpreading o'er the plain, With gentle artless voice, Affift the humble ftrain. To give you food, He bids the field Its verdure yield, Extenfive good. Ye herds of nobler fize, Who graze in meads below; In each refponfive low. You wait his hand; The herbage grows, The riv'let flows At his command. 4 Ye feather'd warblers, come, His work you are, He tun'd your voice, And you rejoice Beneath his care. THIRD PART. Ye trees which form the fhade, With fruits of sweetest taste, Your Maker's bounty fhow. From him you rofe, Your vernal fuits 3 In all your green array, Though filent, speak his praise Your fragrant odours breathe, A grateful facrifice : To him whose word Gave all your bloom, And sweet perfume; All bounteous Lord But, O, from human tongues Should nobler praifes flow; 4 And every thankful heart With warm devotion glow. Your voices raife, Ye highly bleft, Declare his praife. Affift me, gracious God, My heart, my voice infpire; The univerfal choir. Thy grace can raife My heart and tongue, And tune my fong To lively praife. Mrs. STEZLE. Pfalm CXLVIII. Particular Metre. [*] BEGIN, my foul, the exalted lay; Let each euraptur'd thought obey, And praife th' Almighty name; Lo heav'n, and earth, and feas, and fkies, To fwell th' infpiring theme! 2 Ye angels, spread the joyful found, 3 Thou heaven of heavens, his vaft abode, 4 Ye deeps, with roaring billows rife, 5 Wake, all ye foaring throng, and fing; 6 Let man, by nobler paffions fway'd, U B. WILLIAMS's Collections. Pfalm CXLIX. Particular Metre. Thanksgiving. PRAISE ye the Lord, O Prepare your glad voice, His praife in the great In loud fwelling strains Their wants to relieve, and 3 With glory adorn'd, 4 Ye angels above, His glories who've fung, In loftieft notes, TATE, varied Plaim CL. Long Metre. [*] Praife. ye the let In his own courts, your fongs of joy; The spacious firmament around Shall echo back the joyfui found. 2 Recount his works in ftrains divine, 5 Let the loud cymbal found on high, ; Mrs. STEELE. END OF THE PSALMS. |