I
 
 
 
 Mr 
 
 c: 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD 
 ENDOWMENT FUND
 
 V
 
 SACRED 
 
 HYMNS: 
 
 O R, 
 
 An Attempt to Difcover and Revive 
 
 the Original Spirit, Elevation, and 
 Beauty, of fbme of the 
 
 SELECT PSALMS 
 
 To which is added, 
 
 An ODE on the AGONY of the 
 
 M E s s I A H. 
 
 Sanflos an Jus re cinder e Font ex 
 
 By the Reverend Mr. N E \v c o M B , Chaplain 
 to his Grace the Duke of R I C H M O N D. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed for JOHN PEMBERTON, in Flect-ftreet -, 
 and JOHN WALT HOE, over-againft the Royal 
 Exchange in Cornbill. M DCG XXVI.
 
 
 T O 
 
 The Reverend and the Worthy 
 
 Mr. BIG, 
 
 Warden of New-Colledge in 
 OXFORD. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 HAVE preftim'd, without 
 your leave or knowledge, 
 prefix your Name be- 
 fore this fhort Eflay ; an honour, I 
 had reafon to fear, your great modefty 
 
 7G&56 Would
 
 iv DEDICATION. 
 
 would have refus'd me, had I follici- 
 ted you for it : It being your choice, 
 rather to enjoy the fecret pleafure of 
 virtue and goodnefs, than the praife 
 of it. But however you may blame 
 the freedom of this addrefs, I per- 
 fuade myfelf you will approve the na- 
 ture of the defign ; which is, to cele- 
 brate, in as worthy a manner as I am 
 able, from the infpir'd writings, the 
 adorable perfections of the Supreme 
 Being, which the licentioufnefs of 
 this age, with impunity, has fome- 
 times queftion'd, and often derided : 
 Aiming, in this attempt, to promote 
 and infpire that genuine piety and 
 devotion, your own life and ex- 
 ample more ttrongly encourage and 
 recommend; which, if we cannot 
 
 mention
 
 DEDICATION. :v 
 
 mention without giving you offence, 
 we cannot, I am fure, conceal,, with- 
 out doing you an injury : Thefe, 
 join'd with equal merits of another 
 kind, have placed you fo early at the 
 head of the moft polite, moft learned, 
 and flourifliing fociety ; at an age, 
 when common merit cou'd only have 
 entertained thoughts of qualifying it- 
 felf, for the diftant profpeft of fuch 
 an honour. Thofe who advanced you 
 to your prefent dignity, ftudying 
 their own welfare, as much as your 
 intereft ; providing, by the fame ac- 
 tion, for your juft merit, and their 
 own uncommon happinefs. 
 
 I H A v E perufed, Sir, with fome 
 cafe and attention, whatever has been 
 
 written
 
 vj DEDICATION. 
 
 written before, with any degree of 
 reputation, this way. Thofe authors, 
 who have attempted fome former 
 verfions of the PSALMS, have, doubt- 
 lefs, their beauties, and a fhare of 
 merit to recommend them ; parties 
 cularly, Mr. Sand) 's, Sir Richard 
 Blackmore, Dr. Tatrick , and Dr. 
 Brady : And, I am afraid, it may be 
 thought by fome very worthy per- 
 fons, an injury to thofe great names > 
 to imagine, they can be excelled, or, 
 perhaps, equall'd. I hope it will not 
 be imputed to my prejudice or vanity, 
 if I judge otherwife : As they have 
 many excellencies, it will be a fame 
 to imitate ; fo tftey have fome im- 
 perfeftions, which it may be an e- 
 qual prudence to avoid. How well I 
 
 have
 
 v 
 
 have endeavour d to reach the one, 
 or to decline the other, is humbly 
 fubmitted to yourfelf and the world 
 to determine. 
 
 THERE are two errors, common- 
 ly deftruftive of true merit, in works 
 of this nature ; one is, too religious 
 a reverence for the Letter, which ex- 
 tinguifhes all fpirit in thefe compofi- 
 tions : The other is too wanton a li- 
 berty in the fancy 'd embellifhments 
 of them , which entirely deftroys 
 their charafter , and inftead of a 
 tranflation, gives us an original. I 
 have carefully endeavour'd to avoid 
 thefe too, extremes ; and, to make 
 this Verfion both animated and juft ; 
 keeping the fenfe of the divine ori- 
 ginals
 
 viij DEDICATION. 
 
 ginals ftill in view, and infpiring it 
 with that degree of life and fpirit, 
 with which it was firft delivered ; and 
 without which, in any language, it 
 can never pleafe. 
 
 I am, SIR, 
 
 With the utmoft Refpeff 
 And Sincerity, 
 
 Tour moji obliged, 
 
 And moji humble Servant, 
 
 
 THO. NEWCOMB.
 
 S A C k E D 
 
 HYMNS, 
 
 BEING 
 
 An Attempt jto Difcover and Re- 
 vive the Original Spirit,, Eleva- 
 tion,, and Beauty, of fome of the 
 SELECT PSALMS, 
 
 PSALM VIII 
 
 T E R N A L power ! whofe ftedfaft 
 (throne is lay ? d 
 Above the arches of the azure skies ; 
 
 By heaven ador'd ; by earth beneath 
 
 (obey'd, 
 
 Rever'cfr by man's, and fear'd by angels eyes ; 
 Round the wide world, what region can'ft thou 
 
 But owns thy arm, and pays thee reverence due? 
 B Here
 
 i Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Here we behold thy glorious face lefs bright, 
 Thro' the thick cloud thy diftant feat furvey :, 
 
 The heavens enjoy thy faireft fulled light, 
 Pouring for ever round a blaze of day ! 
 From whence eternal dreams of brightnefs flow, 
 
 To blefs the earth, and chear each orb below. 
 
 "** 
 
 Whene'er thy foes, (JEHOVAH'S foes in vain) 
 
 Thy wrath provoke, or matchlefs arm deride ; 
 The babe is chofe their fury to reftrain, 
 
 The ruckling call'd, to mock the {corners pride ; 
 
 Weaknefs has flrength to work thy royal will ; 
 
 And bid the haughty fons of pride be ftill. 
 
 When to thy heaven my ravifh'd eyes I turn, 
 And there behold the golden lamp of day, 
 
 The fun with full meridian glory burn, 
 The moon and flars diffufe a milder ray ; 
 Kin to the crumbling duft, corruption's heir, 
 How can weak man deferve his maker's care ? 
 
 Him fcarce below the fairefl fons of light, 
 Swift heralds of thy will, thy hand has made ; 
 
 His fhield by day, his fure defence by night 
 The angel's wing ; or cherub's guardian {hade ; 
 
 Man's
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 3 
 
 Man's fame let all the wide creation own ; 
 Friend of his God ; and fav'rite of his throne! 
 
 Whate'er through nature's ample circuit ftray, 
 
 Crowding the fea, or air, or fpacious landj 
 His royal fummons hear ; and will obey, 
 
 Attend his voice, or (loop to his command ; 
 
 Or clothe the naked ; or the hungry feed ; 
 
 Toil at the yoak ; or at the altar bleed ; 
 
 Supreme, unbounded, heaven's immortal fire, 
 
 Whofe tongue mall thy great Godhead greatly 
 
 (praife ; 
 
 To tell thy might, too weak each mortal lyre, 
 To flng thy power, too faint all humane layes \ 
 By various worlds, thy mercies are implor'd ; 
 Each world fuftaining ; and by each ador'd ! 
 
 '/..''.: .. 
 
 PSALM XIX. 
 
 Tnk golden heavens that burn on high, 
 The lamps that deck the glorious sky ; 
 Without a voice, great God, proclaim 
 That power, which gave each flar a name ; 
 
 B x The
 
 4 Sacred HTMNS, 
 
 The works and wonders of thy might, 
 The day unfolds to pleafe the night ; 
 Which me rejoicing to difplay 
 Repeats again to charm the day ? 
 
 To the glad nations all around 
 They bear along the numerous found ; 
 And bid each eye his hand admire 
 Which filPd their filver orbs with fire ; 
 
 Tho' filent round the earth they blaze, 
 Their filence yet can fpeak thy praife ; 
 Calling on man that God to own 
 Who built each flar fo fair a throne. 
 
 Beyond the reft in glory bright, 
 The fun pours forth a flood of light ; 
 His great pavilion plac'd on high, 
 The firft, and faireft in the sky. 
 
 As now he lights the eaftern air, 
 A bridegroom's blulhes feem lefs fair ; 
 And taking thence his weftern flight ; 
 A giant has not half his might ! 
 
 Along
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Along the golden glorious way, 
 Where'er he bends, he fcatters day ; 
 No nation but his beauties charm ; 
 Nor world his prefence does not warm. 
 
 Wak'd by his heat all nature pours 
 From her green lap a year of flowers ; 
 Which to the morn their fweets difclofe, 
 And blefs thofe beams from whence they role. 
 
 PSALM XVIII. 
 
 GREAT God ! our fare defence in fight ! 
 Who do'fl each heart with courage fill ; 
 From whom our arm derives its might 
 In battle, to defend or kill ; 
 Through the wide earth weak man can fee, 
 Nothing fecure or ftrong but thee ; 
 
 No arm but thine we fafely truft ; 
 
 Feeble the bold ; infirm the brave ; 
 Our ihields are clay j our bucklers dud, 
 
 Faithlefs in fight ; and cannot fave ; 
 
 To man no help or refuge yield, 
 
 In the dark gloom, or bloody field, s 
 
 When
 
 6 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 When dangers do my fteps furround 
 
 Awaking every confcious fear, 
 No ills fhall hurt j no dread confound 
 
 My fledfaft heart, when thou art near ; 
 
 Beneath thy wings fecure 1 goe, 
 
 And meet, unhurr, my proudeft foe ; 
 
 Tho' round the couch on which I fleep 
 In fadnefs, each pale terror reigns, 
 
 Tho' death fhou'd there his manfion keep, 
 And hell reveal its faddeft pains ; 
 Nor death nor hell cou'd e'er afright 
 My foul, when cherifh'd by thy fight ; 
 
 When my fad heart no comfort knows, 
 And heaving fighs my bofom fwell, 
 
 To thee my tongue mail lift my woes, 
 My foul to thee its forrows tell ; 
 Thy heavens my loud complaints fhall hear, 
 And calm my griefs ; and dry my tear. 
 
 The earth was mov'd ; the hills around 
 Were fhook throughout with fudden fear ; 
 
 Diflblving each, the dreadful found 
 Of thy confuming wrath to hear ; 
 
 Which
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 7 
 
 Which fills the world with dire difmay j 
 And drives its trembling orbs away. 
 
 From thy fierce vifage fparkles dire 
 In fearful inundations flow ; 
 
 Which fcatters round a fleam of fire 
 Confuming all it meets below ; 
 Nothing its fury can fubdue, 
 Devouring wide, where'er it burns ; 
 
 The bowing heaven, and bending skies, 
 Receive their God with reverent dread j 
 
 Beneath whole feet deep darknefs lies, 
 While rays of glory hide his head ; 
 His throne now clad with purefl light, 
 Now veil'd with all the gloom of night. 
 
 Upon the wings of cherubs bore, 
 He chufes round his heavens to fly ; 
 
 Or takes as great delight to fbar 
 On all the winds above the sky ; 
 Which, as they bear his weight along, 
 Confefs their God more fwift and flrong. 
 
 His
 
 8 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 His aweful feat above the pole 
 
 Is covered round with thickeft night - 
 
 About his throne dark waters roll 
 
 And hide his brow from humane fight j 
 No eye the darknefs can invade, 
 Or pierce the fecret folemn made ! 
 
 'Till from his prefence flames afcend, 
 
 And drive the fcatter'd clouds away 
 The lightnings which the mountain rend 
 
 Lefs cruel and lefs keen than they ; 
 
 Again his heavens are feen more bright ; 
 
 Again his vifage glows with light , 
 
 With dread, thou earth, his thunders hear* 
 While from the skies his fury pours, 
 
 To damp pale man with every fear, 
 His fire and hail in mingled mowers ; 
 Which with their mighty found and blaze 
 All nature damp :, each world amaze. 
 
 His bow full bent with flrongeft might 
 A fhower of burning arrows threw ; 
 
 The nations round in wild afright 
 To fhun the cruel fliafts withdrew ; 
 
 fa*
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Far from his withering flames retire, 
 Confcious, whofe arm had fhdt the fire. 
 
 Its Iprings no more the hoary deep, 
 Hearing far off his blafting breath, 
 
 Cou'd from man's eye, or wonder keep, 
 Opening its horrors all beneath ; 
 His chiding gives the world defpair , 
 And leaves the earth's dark center bare ; 
 
 PSALM CXIV. 
 
 TT Tn E N IfraeFs race, opprefs'd with pain, 
 
 * Shook offproud Tharaob's cruel chain j 
 To quell the haughty tyrant's pride 
 Jehovah was their ftrength and guide ! 
 
 The ocean faw ; the rivers gaz'd ; 
 And both their waters flood amaz'd ; 
 To view their armies march along, 
 So firm ; fo terrible and ftrong ; 
 
 Beyond the floods their journey lay ; 
 Which clove, to yield the troops a way ; 
 
 C Con-
 
 io Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Confcious, whofe fovereign arm was nigh ; 
 Whofe voice it was that bids 'em fly. 
 
 As to the deep his fleps draw near, 
 The deep attends the found with fear ; 
 While Jordan's waters backwards turn 
 With fearful hafte to find their urn. 
 
 The mountains hold their place no more, 
 Shook, with the aged pines they bore ; 
 The little hills the mountains view ; 
 Confefs their God ; and tremble too. 
 
 Ye feas ! whofe arm drove back your wave ! 
 Ye ftreams, whofe voice your terror gave ! 
 Who rocks the feeble hills around ; 
 Which, like the herds they nourifh, bound? 
 
 As now your God forfakes his throne, 
 Tremble, ye worlds ! his prefence own ! 
 Prepare your flight ; difTolve with fear , 
 And melt away, when he is near. 
 
 'Tis he who from the flint can call, 
 And bid the gulhing waters fall ; 
 
 From
 
 Sacred HTMNS. n 
 
 From the hard rock, who fountains pours j 
 And makes the defart fmile with ihowers. 
 
 PSALM XXIII. 
 
 WH E N E'E R I faint, opprefs'd with woe, 
 Thy gentle hand my footfteps leads, 
 Where filver dreams delight to flow 
 Thro' fruitful vales, and flow'ry meads ; 
 Each fcene around with tranfport leen ; 
 The vale ftill frefh ; the meadows green. 
 
 Beneath the /hade thy wings difplay 
 I feed, and tafte each dear delight ; 
 
 Nor dread the flame that burns by day, 
 Nor fear the blaft that chills by night. 
 Each blifs enjoy, each foe deride ^ 
 Thy love, my ftrengrh ; thy arm, my guide > 
 
 How clear the cooling fountains flow, 
 
 How fweet the paflures where I feed, 
 Thole drive away each penfive woe, 
 
 Thofe every pleafing tranfport breed. 
 
 A double joy at once impart, 
 
 Both cheer the eye j and charm the heart. 
 
 C -L As
 
 ix Sacred HI MRS. 
 
 As here the flreams around me roul, 
 One yet, one mercy more iupply ! 
 
 Smile thou thylelf upon my foul 
 And bid each other rapture die ; 
 The vales tho' frefh ; the brooks tho' clear, 
 Can pleafe no more when thou art near. 
 
 Tho' treading the dark paths below, 
 
 Far from thy heaven ; thefe fmiling plains ; 
 
 With fad and fearful fleps I go, 
 
 Where death refutes, where darknefs reigns j 
 Thy hand mall lead me in the way, 
 And turn the midnight gloom to day | 
 
 W hate'er dire terrors dwell beneath, 
 
 What fcenes afright, or woes amaze , 
 What ilghs, tho' dead, the wretched breathe, 
 
 What flames around the guilty blaze , 
 
 Do thou my ftedfaft foul fuflain, 
 
 I view and hear, without a pain. 
 
 My table, with thy bounty fpread, 
 With envy wades my pining foes ; 
 
 While thy rich oil bedews my head, 
 And with thy wine my cup o'erflovrs ; 
 
 Which
 
 Sacred HYMNS. 13 
 
 Which gladnefs to each look imparts, 
 And pours a joy around our hearts. 
 
 Oh, let the fame indulgent fmile, 
 That cheers me now, for ever fave ; 
 
 That love, which does my griefs beguile, 
 This hour await me to the grave ; 
 That to thy name, my God and friend, 
 My knee may bow, and heart may bend. 
 
 PSALM XXIV. 
 
 WH A T E'E R the ipacious world contains, 
 The fruitful earth, or wat'ry plains ; 
 That humbly on the furface creep, 
 Or roul along the mighty deep ; (found, 
 
 'Twas heaven's great voice, with one creating 
 That fill'd with life the wide expanfion round. 
 
 Beneath the floods ; beyond our eye, 
 
 Her deep and dark foundations lie j 
 
 Tho' feas above her furface flow, 
 
 Capacious oceans deep below ; 
 Beneath the mountains hold their gloomy reign ^ 
 Which bind the boifterous waves, as with a chain. 
 
 Whofe
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Whofe feet fhall on thy mountain reft, 
 Be, with thy fmiles and prefence, bleft > 
 Who to thy facred hill mall rife, 
 And claim thy temple or thy skies > 
 
 Even he, who juftice loves, and treachery fcorns ; 
 
 Whom virtue guides, and innocence adorns ; 
 
 On him, fair, I/rael's hope and power, 
 From heaven each fairefl gift fhall mower ; 
 A thoufand fmiles his eye extend, 
 His hand a thoufand mercies lend ; 
 With kind events each pious action blefs, 
 And crown each guiltlefs labour with fuccefs ; 
 
 Such mall the happy race appear, 
 Who Sion's God with reverence hear ; 
 Such fmiles fhall grace, and gifts adorn 
 The fons, of Jacob's lineage born ; 
 
 Thofe who his prefence love ; and godhead own ; 
 
 And bow their hearts before his awful throne. 
 
 Ye temples round your valves unfold 
 Throw wide your lofty gates of gold ! 
 Omnipotence demands thcfpace, 
 A God anon, your courts will grace ; 
 
 Lift
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 15- 
 
 Lift high your doors, that thro' the Ipacious way 
 The king of glory may his pomp difplay. 
 
 To whom does that great name belong? 
 
 To Szon's God, in battle ftrong. 
 
 Who pours contempt upon the brave, 
 
 And fhuts the vi&or in the grave ; 
 Shaking the feeble props of humane truft, 
 And bids the proud lie down in death and dud. 
 
 PSALM LXVIIL 
 
 T E T God arife, and from his throne, 
 * ' Turn to the earth his dreadful eye ; 
 With dire amaze each foe lhall own 
 His prefence, and, prepare to fly. 
 
 Pouring confufion all around 
 
 On thofe who dare his wrath withftand, 
 The proud his anger mail confound, 
 
 His looks confume, without his hand. 
 
 When he prepares their ilrength to break, 
 
 And whets his glittering fword for fight ; 
 The melting wax is not fo weak, 
 
 The flying fmoak, not half fo light. 
 
 Not
 
 16 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Not fb the juft, who own his sky, 
 Or from his arm, or pretence dart ; 
 
 Soft joy infpires the guiltlefs eye, 
 And gladnefs cheers the pious heart. 
 
 With fmiles upon his brow they gaze, 
 His facred courts with raptures tread ; 
 
 Look on his heaven without amaze, 
 His lifted arm without a dread. 
 
 Ye worlds prepare your nobleft fong 
 For him, whofe hand all nature guides ; 
 
 Who on the heavens, fublime and ftrong. 
 As on a burning chariot rides ; 
 
 His praife, his worth be firfl decreed 
 Dwelling aloft in faireft light ; 
 
 Who checks the orbs in fulleft fpeed, 
 Or with his word infpires their flight. 
 
 To him who hears from off the skies 
 The wretched race of man complain, 
 
 The helplefs orphan never cries, 
 Or lonely widow fighs in vain. 
 
 He
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 17 
 
 He from the mourning pris'ner's feet 
 
 Breaks the ftrong bolt, and heals his pain ; 
 
 Perfuades his faints to union fweet, 
 And burfts the captive's gauling chain. 
 
 While thofe who his great llatutes fcorn, 
 
 Nor in his arm, for fafety, truft, 
 With want and meagre famine worn, 
 
 Confume away, and pine in dull. 
 
 Can we forget the glorious day, 
 
 When led acrofs the defart fand, 
 Cloth'd all in flame, his dread array 
 
 Our armies own'd his guiding hand > 
 
 The hills their (Irength retained no more, 
 Confefs'd their weaknefs and his power ; 
 
 As on their tops, with thunders tore, 
 Was pour'd the rapid burning Ihower. 
 
 The heavens and fearful earth cou'd ftay 
 No more upon their trembling bafe ; 
 
 But juft like Sinai fled away 
 Before the brightnefs of his face. 
 
 D PSALM
 
 18 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 T\ T XrX7*TTT 
 
 PSALM LXXVL 
 
 "IT TB E R t Jttdafrs fruitful vales are fpread, 
 And hear with joy the fountains fall ; 
 Thy name, great God, is heard with dread, 
 
 Wherever heard, ador'd by all ; 
 
 The hills difrufe it all around ; 
 
 The vales prolong the facred found. 
 
 Fair Salem's feat, whofe royal fpires 
 With beauty charm ; in height excel!, 
 
 Thy prefence fills, and eye admires, 
 Chofe for thy court, wherein to dwell ; 
 On SMs brow thy temple rear'd, 
 By nations own'd, and I/raele&i'd. 
 
 Here to rebuke th' aftoniih'd foe, 
 Their fhield thy ftronger fury rent ; 
 
 Shiver 'd the fpear, made weak the bow, 
 Againft her walls by Syria bent ; 
 In hade their impious legions fled, 
 While all around their battle bled. 
 
 Thofc
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 19 
 
 Thofe bands which to the hills belong, 
 Whofe fwords in cruel fpoil delight ; 
 
 Thy arm more terrible and ftrong 
 
 Shall drive away ; confound in fight ; 
 Who, turning back to view thy eye, 
 
 Shall all confume, before they fly. 
 
 i 
 
 Thou do'ft the proud of ftrength beguile, 
 And make the vidor's heart with fear, 
 
 No more the mighty hold the Ipoil, 
 
 Or chafe the prey, when chou art near ; 
 To fhun thy wrath and blafling breath 
 
 o 
 
 They fly and flying fleep in death. 
 
 When he beholds thy brow with paia, " 
 
 Thy angry (haft, and lifted hand, 
 How (hall the driver hold the rein, 
 
 t nCT! 35v_l 
 
 Or how the fearful chariot (land ? 
 Owning thy dire rebuke to feel 
 The falling deed, and broken wheel. 
 
 What elfe, the fpacious earth around 
 Which thou, great God, do'ft ever fill, 
 
 Can like thy angry look confound, 
 Or like thy awful vifage kill ? 
 
 Man's
 
 ^o Sacred HYMNS. 
 
 Man's eye with lefs amaze can fee 
 The lightning's cruel flame, than thec, 
 
 When from his burning throne on high, 
 Dark with fierce light, Jehovah rofe, 
 
 The meek with mercies to fupply, 
 And flied pale fear among his foes, 
 The trembling earth, to which he flies, 
 Receives him from the rending skies j 
 
 The winds are hum'd ! the feas no more 
 
 Are heard in murmurs to refbund ; 
 They view their God, his fleps adore 
 
 With confcious fear, and dread profound ; 
 
 The wond'ring deep his eye reftrains ; 
 
 And filence thro' all nature reigns. 
 
 Let man, vain man, with fury rage 
 
 Againft thy flrength, his fiercenefs raife ; 
 
 Thy arm his fiercenefs can aflwage, 
 And turn it to thy nobler praife, 
 Into the bold a terror dart, 
 And fix defpair in every heart. 
 
 What
 
 Sacred HT MRS. 
 
 What to thy kindeft love we owe, 
 Rich incenfe, and oblations fweer, 
 
 Whate'er we promife, let us throw 
 Unfparing at thy royal feet ; 
 For mercy, gratitude return, 
 While with our gifts thy altars burn. 
 
 Thy arm fhall break the tyrant's yoke, 
 The fpirit of the bold reftrain ; 
 
 By thee their flrength in battle broke 
 Who fway the earth, and proudly reign 
 Who, turning to thy glorious throne, 
 Extol thy power ; nor truft their own. 
 
 PSALM XCI. 
 
 WH o makes thy arm his ftrong retreat, 
 Great God, fecur'd beneath thy wings ; 
 Scorns the vain infults of the great, 
 The wade of war, and wrath of kings ; 
 Each horror of the doubtful field 
 Thy fmiles, his truft ; thy arm, his fhield. 
 
 Each
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Each midnight mare the fecret foe 
 Can form, or treachery devife, 
 
 His hand thy fure defence below 
 
 Thy eye mail mock, and heart defpiie. j 
 While the blue peftilence mall fly 
 Unfear'd acrofs the tainted sky. j # 3 j j { 
 
 The guardian made his wing mall caft 
 
 Abo'-e thy head, mall (till defend ; -./ , 
 
 His faith through endlefs ages lafl, 
 
 His truth to know no bounds, or end ;iv/ 
 Not the flrong buckler (hall fecure d^' 
 So well, or fword fo long endure. 
 
 Each fearful terror of the night 
 
 Man's eye can dread, or fears divine, 
 
 In the deep darknefs may afright 
 
 Each guilty heart, but cannot thine ; : '\II 
 
 By him the arrow turn'd away 
 
 That takes its flight, and wounds by day. 
 
 Not the dire peft, which feeks the made 
 To fpread around her blotting breath, 
 
 Shall reach thy couch, thy reft invade, 
 Or fill thy houfe with dread, and death ; 
 
 Free
 
 Sacred HT MRS. 13 
 
 Free from each bold and baleful ill, 
 That in full day delights to kill. 
 
 When on his name the fmners call, 
 In vain with fighs invoke his sky ; 
 
 Thoufands on thy right hand fliali fall, 
 Upon the left, ten thoufand die j 
 Secure from that contagious breath 
 Which ftretches all the proud in death. 
 
 ... . . . r , 
 
 Oh, wait a while, and view defcend 
 
 From off yon heaven the vengeful dart, 
 Which fhall the cloud in pieces rend, 
 Amazing every guilty heart, 
 While thy flrong fortrefs, plac'd on high, 
 Derides each terror of the sky. 
 
 What tho' the weeping earth around 
 
 Does every fbrrow feel or fear, 
 Thy roofs fhall ail with joy abound, 
 
 Thy God, thy great avenger near ; 
 
 The plague from thy lov'd couch who turns, 
 
 Wafting whole regions where it burns. 
 
 See
 
 a* Sacred HYMNS. 
 
 See at his word, his kind command, 
 His angels round their wings difplay ; 
 
 About thy bed delighted (land, 
 
 And guide thy Heps, and fmooth thy way ; 
 Guarding each forrow from thy head 
 Weak man has caufe each day to dread. 
 
 Thou on the hiding fnake malt tread, 
 
 The fiery afpick fearlefs meet ; 
 Rouze the fierce dragon from his bed, 
 
 And cram beneath thy (Ironger feet ; 
 
 On his dire mane thy heel (hall reft, 
 
 And fpurn the hauehty lion's creft. 
 r a J 
 
 See, fee, thy God is fond to chear 
 
 The guiklefs heart \vith groans oppred ; 
 
 Strong to relieve, and kind to hear 
 
 The mournful voice, and throbbing bread. 
 
 Does the good man to honours raife, 
 
 Who owns his name ; and fpreads his praife. 
 
 Whene'er thou do'ft for fuccour call, 
 Thy eyes with dreams of forrow fed, 
 
 His wings around thy couch fliall fall, 
 And free thy foul from every dread ; 
 
 Partake
 
 Sacred HTMNS. ^? 
 
 Partake thy grief, or elfe allay ; 
 And chafe the falling tear away f 
 
 With every blifs and bletfing crown'd ; 
 
 Thy life (hall wade, and glide away ; 
 With honours grac'd, in fame renown'd, 
 
 Shall flouriili long, and late decay ; 
 
 In life, in death ; beneath, above, 
 
 Sovereign his arm ; fupreme his love. 
 
 PSALM XLIL 
 
 Ju s T as the hart purfues the dream, 
 Scorch'd with the day's meridian beam, 
 To the cool current fwiftly flies, 
 With eager fteps, and longing eyes ; 
 From every meaner paflion free, 
 So pants my foul, oh God, for thee. 
 
 1 faint, I third, oh, turn thy eye, 
 
 
 See me expire ; behold me die ; 
 
 'Tis for thy abfence that I mourn, 
 J Tis for thy prefence that I burn ; 
 When will thy fmiles my fadnefs chear, 
 
 And when will Ifrael's hope draw near ? 
 
 E Oa
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 On the fad dream my grief has filed, 
 By night, by day, I long have fed ; 
 Hearing thy foe with fcorn demand 
 Some wonder from thy flighted hand ; 
 Ask in what deeds thy arm excells, 
 And where thy queftion'd Godhead dwells ? 
 
 To hear proud man thy name difbwn, 
 I feek the fliade, and pine alone ; 
 Pour out my foul before the night, 
 Too fad to view the day, or light ; 
 Or to the temple lead along 
 The tribes, to hear my penfive fong. 
 
 Why do my eyes refufe their reft ? 
 
 Why heaves each forrow in my breaft> 
 
 What fadnefs and unbounded woe 
 
 Bids the big tear for ever flow : 
 
 Each joy from my fwelPd heart does keep, 
 
 Which breathes, but only breathes to weep ? 
 
 Oh, ftill on Jacob's God depend, 
 His arm can yet a fuccour lend ; 
 Be his almighty name thy trufl, 
 Who lifts the poor from death and duft ; 
 
 Does
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 17 
 
 Does from the grave the wretched raife, 
 In joyful hymns to own his praife. 
 
 Once more unveil thy facred skies ; 
 Receive my forrows as they rife ! 
 My voice mail then thy fame unfold, 
 Thy prefent might, and works of old ; 
 Of every harp the rapturous theme, 
 From Hermotfs hill, to Jordan's dream. 
 
 D '. J L-11 C 1 
 
 But the proud billows foam along 
 The angry fea, lefs fierce and ftrong ; 
 Not with that noife aflault the sky, 
 Nor roar fb loud, nor roll fb high j 
 As the deep floods thy hand has led, 
 To break, and burft above my head. 
 
 I 
 
 Yet tho' each day I dread the grave, 
 Each day thy arm is ftretch'd to fave ! 
 Still may thy mercies from the skies 
 Break forth, and with each morn arife ; 
 Which my glad foul mall take delight 
 
 To fing, and mention to the night, 
 
 A 
 
 Let me no more in fighs complain 
 TJiy arrn is weak ; or fuccour vain j 
 
 E * O'er-
 
 Sacred HTM N S, 
 
 O'erwhelm'd with every bitter woe, 
 And the low feorn of every foe :, 
 them no more my fadnefs fee, 
 
 By grief fubdued ; forgot by thee ! 
 
 Life leaves my fainting breathlefs heartj 
 My fmitten joints alunder parr, 
 To hear the fcorner proudly cry, 
 Where is thy God > how far his sky ? 
 Whofe fmiles did once thy bofom warm ; 
 What is his might ; and where his arm? 
 
 PSALM XCVII. 
 
 JEHOVAH reigns ! thou earth rejoice, 
 Ye numerous ifles your incenfe bring ! 
 Bend low the knee, exalt the voice ; 
 
 To own the GOD, and praife the King / 
 
 His works in fweeteft fongs repeat, 
 His fame diflufe, and wonders own. 
 
 Who chufes darknefs for his feat, 
 And clouds to made his royal throne. 
 
 Judgment
 
 Sacred HTMNS. ^ 9 
 
 Judgment and truth, that beauteous pair, 
 Which with each heavenly charm beguile, 
 
 Shine at his footftool always fair, 
 And round his throne for ever fmile ! 
 
 That none his terrors may abide, 
 
 Fierce flames his arm around him throws ; 
 
 Dreadfully glare on every fide, 
 To fcatter and confound his foes ; 
 
 Whene'er his fearful lightnings blaze, 
 Whole mafts his anger does infpire, 
 
 All nature feels a dire amaze, 
 To view the red reludant fire ! 
 
 Not the ilrong earth, or aged deep, 
 
 As now his arrows crofs the sky, 
 Or hills, their feat can longer keep. 
 
 Prepaid to melt away, or fly ! 
 
 All worlds, fubmifllve to thy will, 
 Thy glories fmg, or terrors fear ; 
 
 The heavens above thy judgments fill, 
 The earth beneath thy mercies chear. 
 
 Curfl
 
 3 o Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Curft be his impious hand, who throws 
 Rich incenfe on the idols fhrine ; 
 
 His gifts ungratefully beftows 
 On any altar elfe but thine ! 
 
 Each fabled god of gold or (lone, 
 
 Thy jealous fury ftiall devour ; 
 Who, bending low before thy throne, 
 
 Shall blefs thy name, or feel thy power, 
 
 All Slon round has heard with joy 
 
 Thy voice, thy wond'rous works declare ; 
 
 Thy arm how mighty to deftroy, 
 Thy boundlefs love, how fond to (pare ! 
 
 Let kings, who to the duft belong, 
 No more with him in glory vie ; 
 
 Confefs his arm more fear'd and ftrong, 
 
 His dreadful throne more bright and high ! 
 
 Who make fair SMs God their choice, 
 All guilt abhor, each error fly ; 
 
 Nor own him only with their voice, 
 And with polluted hearts deny : 
 
 His
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 31 
 
 \ 
 
 His arm is both a helm and fhield, 
 He does around the upright throw ; 
 
 A fure and ftrong defence to yield 
 Againft the bold and impious foe. 
 
 Whene'er he does his fmiles impart, 
 To thofe who own and blefs his sky, 
 
 Gladnefs dilates- each beating heart, 
 And light fprings up in every eye. 
 
 With joy before his prefence ftand, 
 With early vows prevent the day ; 
 
 'Tis all his juftice does demand, 
 And all our grateful lips can pay. 
 
 PSALM CXXX. 
 
 T"? ROM the dark chambers of the deep, 
 -* Where fbrrow dwells ; and terrors fleep, 
 I pour, great G o D, a bitter groan ; 
 Unfold thy heavens ; and hear my moan ! 
 
 Tho' here I pine, o'erwhelm'd with woe, 
 Thy pitying eye can pierce as low ; 
 
 Tho*
 
 3T Sacred HT MRS, 
 
 Tho' here I chufe a wretched grave, 
 Even here thy mighty arm can fave ! 
 
 Who cou'd thy wrath one hour abide 
 By thy find law, with rigour try'd > 
 Who the fad ientence undergo, 
 If thy ftern juftice was his foe > 
 
 But oh, to calm the guilty heart, 
 Thy mercy turns away the dart, 
 Which thy ftrong arm in wrath prepared, 
 To be the fmner's fad reward. 
 
 
 To thy lov'd heaven, and beauteous sky, 
 
 i 
 
 I lift my foul, and turn my eye ; 
 Patient, till thon, vvhofe arm 
 
 Shalt fmile, and take me from the dull ; 
 
 <1 
 
 Before the early morn does rife, 
 
 Or ftreakswith gold the eaftera skies, 
 
 In raptures I thy mercies own, 
 
 And pour my heart before thy throne ! 
 
 Oh Ifrael) vain each god befide, 
 Make him thy dear defence and guide ! 
 
 Who
 
 i 3? 
 
 Who kills, or refcues from the grave ; 
 Strong to avenge, or kind to fave ! 
 
 Tho' juftice may his fate decree, 
 His mercy fets the finner free ! 
 To the fad heart his lovd unfolds, 
 Forgives each fin or not beholds. 
 
 PSALM CVII. From the xi^ to 
 
 the 3 Qth Verfe. 
 
 WIDE as the Ipacious earth is fpread, 
 Far as the fun its light difplays, 
 Thy works, great God, arc feen with dread ; 
 Thy mighty wonders told with praife } 
 And while each knee with reverence bends, 
 The heart, inlpir'd with joy, attends ! 
 
 Who fail the loud unfathom'd deep, 
 
 With fighs implore thy arm to fave ; 
 In their fad thought each terror keep, 
 
 And hear thy voice in every wave ; 
 
 Or when it fwells the angry tide, 
 
 Or bids the finking furge fubfide. 
 
 F Op
 
 34 Sacred HTM NS. 
 
 Up to the heavens, a fearful way, 
 The winds the reeling veflel blow"; 
 
 'Till broke the wave 011 which it lay, 
 
 It finks as fwift and falls, as low ; P - { ^ 
 
 Down from the-fea's enormous fteep, v . 
 To the dire {hallows of the deep ;, r . 3 g ^. 
 
 Roek'd to and fro, from wave to wave, 
 
 The aking heart begins to fear, 
 (Each billow feerning now a grave) 
 
 With trembling (ighs, that death is near. 
 
 Since the wild temped to reftrain 
 
 Each arm is weak ;' -all : 'art in vain ! 
 
 O3t 31 t l T {rfT 
 
 Raging the fea ; tiiicalm'-d the wind, , 
 Where, mall frail man for fuccour fly ; 
 
 Whereiiri his angniili hope to find ?r,^d orlT 
 Relief but from thy pitying sky ? 
 Which, fmilingnow, difpels his fears, 
 And turns to joy the wretch's tears. 
 
 As he ordains, the fulphurous dovish'. 
 
 No more with direful thunder roars ; 
 While his almighty voice more loud 
 
 Confines the lea, within its mores ; 
 
 Bids
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 35- 
 
 Bids the proud wave its limits keep, 
 And fmooths each horror of the deep. 
 
 New joy each ravifh'd heart does feel, 
 New life infpires each beating bread, 
 
 As he direds the bounding keel, 
 To the fafe harbour, where to reft ; 
 -Which, free from every dread, derides 
 The threatening (torm ; and angry tides ! 
 
 ^ fJll C ' 
 
 . 
 
 ' 
 PSALM CXXVIII. 
 
 . 
 
 WH o E'E R the paths of virtue tread, 
 Invoke their God with pious dread ; 
 Shall (hare thofe fmiles, which flill impart 
 A joy, to man's tranfported heart ! 
 
 Beneath his kind indulgence plac'd, 
 What their hand fows, their lips iliall talte ; 
 Their grateful voice his bounty fing ; 
 While bleffings from their labour fpring^ 
 
 AS the rich vine with clutters bends, 
 Which up thy verdant wall abends ; 
 
 F i Thy
 
 3 6 Sacred HT MN & 
 
 Thy wife fhall ever pleafe thy view, 
 As beauteous and as fruitful too. 
 
 Thy children round thy eye lhall (land, 
 And hear with joy each fpft command ; 
 Upon thy bofom fmiling reft, 
 And cheer each ravifh'd parent's bread. 
 
 Each gift, heaven's bounteous hand mail ihed, 
 
 Upon the lov 'd adorer's head ; 
 
 His virtues crown ; and actions blefs, 
 
 With great events and fair fuccefs ! 
 
 ' 
 
 Salem f s rich towers his eye fhall fee 
 With pomp adorn'd ; from tumults free ; 
 While round her walls her God does ihower 
 A fair encreafe of fame and power. 
 
 / 
 
 His childrens race he fhall behold 
 Around his knee their fmiles unfold ; 
 Plenty reftor'd ; dire battles ceafe, 
 And happy Zwn crown'd with peace. 
 
 P S A L M
 
 T 
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 37 
 
 PSALM CXLII. 
 
 . 
 
 o thee, great God, with bitter cries, 
 
 My plaints I tell, and griefs difclofe, 
 Unfolding to thy diftant skies 
 
 My foul, with all its numerous wp.es \ 
 My fadnefs with the light begun, 
 Nor ended, when the day is done. 
 
 As down each cheek my forrows fhow'r, 
 Sprung from a fad defpairing breaft, 
 
 To thee, my dire complaints I pour, 
 Which rob my eye each night of reft ; 
 Each other arm infirm or vain, 
 On thine I reft to thee complain. 
 
 When faint and weak my fpirit chofe 
 
 In filent paths to weep alone ; 
 Thy eye cou'd there behold my woes. 
 
 Thy ear bear witnefs to my moan. 
 
 Yet not my fighs, nor my defpair 
 
 Cou'd guard me from the (corner's fnare. 
 
 ., ;;r T ' 
 
 J threw
 
 3 8 Sacred HT MRS. 
 
 I threw my gufhing eyes around 
 
 On every fide, in hopes to find 
 Some to fupprefs my tears, but found, 
 
 Man's fuccour vain, or man unkind ; 
 
 Tho' once in blifs and glory thron'd, 
 
 Its wretched king each eye difbwn'd : 
 
 Tho' to the deepefl made I bend 
 My fteps, or to the darknefs haft ; 
 
 Amazing terrors which attend 
 
 My dangerous path, purfue as fait ; 
 
 I fly, but ah, no art I find . 4trf 
 
 . 
 
 To leave my following cares behind. 
 
 To theelbend, with dread oppreft, 
 
 Great God ; to whom it does belong 
 To give the pious mourner reft, 
 
 To aid the weak, or crufh the ftrons ; 
 > &> 
 
 The portion, and the hope of all 
 That on thy name in fadnefs call. 
 
 / r j. 3J; 
 
 Oh, bend from heaven a father's ear, 
 Reach out that arm on which I truft, 
 
 My groans attend, my forrows hear, 
 Oh fmile, and lift me from the duft ! 
 
 la
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 39 
 
 In mercy flop the flying dart, 
 
 The foe has lev'elFd at my heart. 
 : 3 n^if'S n ; : : 
 
 Snatch me from death's amazing pain, 
 My anxious fool from darknefs bring ; 
 
 That rais'd by thee I may again 
 Adore thy love, and goodnefs fmg. 
 Smile thou, to eafe my troubled mind, 
 And man, like thee, will foon be kind. 
 
 PSALM CXII. 
 
 inifif! 
 l o ofcft S God let man draw near 
 
 With humble hopes, and reverent fear ; 
 With blifs and every blefling crown'd 
 Belov'd by heaven ; on earth renown'd ; 
 Happy himfelf, his eye fhall view 
 With joy his race as happy too. 
 
 While others pine, around his head ^ 
 
 Plenty her fulleft flream fhall fhed ; 
 
 Fair wealth, the beauteous child of peace, 
 
 Shall fill his houfe, with large encreafe ^ 
 
 'Till death, each mercy to endure ; 
 
 Since he, that gave 'em, can fecure. 
 
 To
 
 4-0 Sacred HYMNS. 
 
 X" 
 
 To him who guides his fleps aright, 
 From the dark made fprings up a light ; 
 Who, with heaven's kindeft bounty blefs'd, 
 Joys, to revive the foul diftrefs'd ; 
 Does to the fad his gifts impart --<J 
 And tries to (both the mourner's heart. 
 
 Crown'd by his God with fair fuccefs, 
 He takes the fame delight to blefs ; 
 His hand (till ready to fupply 
 His fmiles to cheer the wretch's eye ; 
 Pleas'd to unbind the captive's chain, 
 And eafe the heart o'erwhelm'd with pain. 
 
 Whatever ills the guilty fear, 
 Thejuft, without a terror, hear, 
 Their deeds mall future annals grace ; 
 Nor time their fair renown deface ; 
 To flourifh, 'till around the pole 
 The ftars, and fun forget to roll. 
 
 No threaten'd woes molefl their heart, 
 Th6' near their head the flying dart, 
 Wing'd with dire fpeed, and fury goes? 
 Secure, while all their num'rous foes 
 
 la
 
 Sacred HTM US. 41 
 
 In death a due reward iliall meet, 
 And fink expiring at their feet. 
 
 That mercy which their hand extends, 
 That gen'rous aid, their pity lends ; 
 Each goodnefs which their bounty deals$ 
 The tear it flops, and wound it heals, 
 Shall every adion greatly crown 
 With lading wreaths, and long renown. 
 
 Their blifs, the finners to furvey 
 Shall fret with rage, and pine away ; 
 With meagre envy vex'd confume ; 
 E're fate has yet decreed their doom ; 
 Whelm'd under every grief, expire, 
 With vain, and unfulfilPd defire. 
 
 PSALM CXIII. 
 
 BEGIN, my foul, a glorious flight, 
 Sublime thy wing, thy pinions flrong ! 
 Let heaven's eternal King delight 
 To hear, and liflen to the long, 
 Whofe facred verfe, and folemn found, 
 Spreads his great fame to worlds around. 
 
 G Where
 
 4% Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Where fprings the morn, thofe realms ihall blefs 
 His name, who bid the morn arife : 
 
 His might, thofe regions tell, no lefs 
 Where the fun's ebbing luftre dies ; 
 Which all the earth's wide empires own, 
 Beneath the fcorch'd, and freezing zone. 
 
 Ye earthly kings, with him no more ^, 
 
 In pomp or regal luftre vie ; 
 But humbly at his throne adore, 
 
 More ftrongly built ; and plac'd more high ; 
 
 The heavens his glories fcarce fuftain , 
 
 The earth his footftool, where ye reign. 
 
 Yet tho' he dwells in fearful light,' 
 Where conftellations round him glow. 
 
 From thence his mercy takes delight 
 To vifit wretched man below. 
 His eye oft cuts the midnight made, 
 To blefs thofe worlds his hand has made? 
 
 He with a parent's pitying care, 
 
 In which the fad and pious truft, 
 Oft lifts the mourner from defpair, 
 
 The weak and aged from the duft ; 
 
 Does
 
 Sacred HT MRS. 4.3 
 
 Does the proud rulers ftrength difovfai ; 
 And fees the fimple on his throne. 
 
 The fruidefs womb h ; s kind command 
 Does oft with breathing life infpire ; 
 
 While children round the mother (land. 
 And glad the aged hopelefs fire ! 
 Each ravifh'd parent's cares beguile, 
 And round their crowded table fmile. 
 
 PSALM CXXVL 
 
 TT THEN heaven the mighty work had wrought, 
 * And Z ion's fbns from bondage brought ; 
 Gave the glad tribes with joy to fee 
 Their chains unbound, and Ifrael free ; 
 As a vain dream the work they view, 
 And jfcarce believe the wonder true ! 
 
 In Judafrs vales as now they (land, 
 Their dear, and long forgotten land ; 
 With joy her fmiling fields they gaze, 
 Yet tejl their joy with fome amaze ; 
 Amidft their raptures ; mix'd with pain, 
 Still think they feel the victor's chain. 
 
 G 2, The
 
 44 Sacred HTMNS, 
 
 The nations round his arm confefs 
 Almighty, who does Zion blefs ; 
 The flrange deliv'rance to compleat 
 His power fupreme, and mercy great ; 
 Which does each grateful tongue employ, 
 And fwells each Hebrew heart with joy. 
 
 Oh, ftill to Ifrael's race be kind ; 
 Reftore her captives yet behind ! 
 That each fad weeping eye may know 
 A day of blils, for years of woe. 
 Their GOD with joyful hearts adore ; 
 Where forrows only dwelt before. 
 
 PSALM CXXIV, 
 
 HA D Judah's God with-held his might, 
 Nor arm'd with every terror rofe, 
 Not led our legions forth to fight, 
 Nor with his fiyord amaz'd our foes, 
 |0ur vanquifh'd armies taught to yield 
 Had fill'd with death each bloody field. 
 
 Eacl}
 
 Sacred HT MRS. 45- 
 
 Each cruel victor's thirfly blade 
 
 Had dipt its point in Hebrew gore ; 
 Our weeping fons their captives made, 
 
 Our daughters all in triumph bore ; 
 
 Had he, by gen'rous pity led, 
 
 Refus'd to aid us, when we bled. 
 
 Too weak our armies to controul 
 
 The rage of our infulting foes ; 
 Above our fad aftenim'd foul 
 
 Sunk with defpair the floods had rofe ; 
 
 Directed o'er our heads to flow, 
 
 And whelm'd in death our troops below. 
 
 But his almighty voice more loud 
 Appeas'd the outrage of the wave ; 
 
 The victor quelPd, reftrain'd the proud, 
 And, to the vanquifh'd, lawrels gave ; 
 From the weak conqu'ror tore away, 
 By his ftrong arm, the refcu'd prey. 
 
 41 
 Our joyful fons, no more in dread, 
 
 Thy might, oh matchlefs King, declare, 
 For S ion's fure definition fpread, 
 
 Whofe hand has rent the midnight fnare ; 
 
 No
 
 6,6 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 No more each nation's fcorn, by thee 
 Our chains are broke j and Ifrael free. 
 
 The God, who gave the heavens their birth, 
 Bids Zion's flrong foundations ftand ; 
 
 The God, who rais'd the fpacious earth 
 And mighty fea, at one command 
 Bids her proud walls, each foe defpife, 
 Firm as thofe hills, on which they rife. 
 
 PSALM LXXVIL From l^erfe 10 
 to the end. 
 
 WHEN overwhelm'd with grief I lie, 
 And from weak man no fuccour find, 
 I blame, great God, thy partial sky, 
 And call the heavens' and thee unkind. 
 
 I ask my heart o'ercharg'd with woe, 
 My fteps faft tending to the grave, 
 
 Why thy kind mercies ceafe to flow, 
 And why thy hand forgets to fave. 
 
 If
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 If at thy altars as I bend, 
 
 And, trembling there, thy aid implore, 
 No fmile mall from thy eye defcend, 
 
 No looks of pity cheer me more > 
 
 Does he, that promised man to blefs, 
 Forget the promife which he made ? 
 
 To the fad heart refufe accefs, 
 
 And hide himfelf behind his made? 
 
 But oh, my ladnefs to fubdue, 
 
 Thy tender mercies I unfold ; 
 Read o'er thy works, thy wonders view, 
 
 And call to mind thy deeds of old. 
 
 To eafe my heart, with joy I tell 
 
 (Now calming every anxious thought) 
 
 How much thou do'ft in fame excell, 
 
 What mighty things thy arm has wrought. 
 
 The fons of Jacob's fav'rite race 
 . Thy power adore and Godhead own ; . 
 Confefs thy might fupreme, and place 
 Their fafety in thy ftrength alone. 
 
 Bending
 
 4.8 Sacred HT MRS. 
 
 Bending from heaven thy glorious way, 
 The floods beheld thee with furprize ; 
 
 The troubled waters fled away 
 To fhun the brightnefs of thy eyes. 
 
 Far from thy dreadful fteps with fear, 
 The depths in dire confufion flew ; 
 
 And as their God in wrath drew near, 
 The waves amaz'd, as fad withdrew. 
 
 At thy approach, devouring ihow'rs 
 Of rapid fire from heaven defcend ; 
 
 While from the cloud, thy lightning pours ; 
 And the wide air, thy thunders rend. 
 
 Thy flames and arrows fent abroad, 
 All nature (hake with confcious fear ; 
 
 Proclaim the prefence of a God, 
 
 And tell the earth, that thou art near. 
 
 Beneath the loud and lowed deep, 
 Thy footfteps oft our eye can trace ; 
 
 Who do'fl the fea's dark chambers keep. 
 To be thy Iccret dwelling place. 
 
 Like
 
 Sacred HTM HS. 49 
 
 Like faireft flocks, at thy command, 
 
 In lovely vales thy people fed ; 
 From jY;/?,;jby Mofes potent hand 
 
 And Aaroris voice to Zton led. 
 
 Yl'~" ^\TT TTT 
 
 PSALM CXLIV. 
 
 t oin no fu; t eni loj sat 3riT 
 
 RE A T God !. my.fur.eft ftay and might, $ 
 
 Who do'fl my ftrength in battle (land, 
 Of power in ev'ry 'drdadful fight . 
 
 To fvvell my heart and guide my hand ! 
 From thee my arm its figour gain^vroiiu 
 To load'With death the hoftile plains. 
 
 t v^e orb T: o fiioii mi / rf 1 
 The fvvord, the fhicld, the high-built tower, 
 
 The fortrefs chofen by the brave, 
 Tho' ftrong and firm, yet want a power 
 Like thy almighty arm to fave ; 
 When fpears prove weak, thy hand, our trull; 
 Our flay, when rocks are turn'd to dufl. 
 
 
 Oh, fay from off thy golden skies, 
 TRat with full light for ever glow, 
 
 How can'fl thou turn thy glorious eyes 
 To view man's wretched race below ? 
 
 H Sprung
 
 jo Sacred HYMNS. 
 
 Sprung from the earth ; of vapours made, 
 And the thin fhadows of a made. 
 
 To prove thy might, great God, defcend, 
 Reveal thy arm, thy wonders fhew ; 
 
 Touch but the hills, the hills mail bend, 
 Beneath thy feet, and flame below. , . 
 
 The fearful mountains, all on fire, 
 
 Burn at thy fight, or elfe retire. 
 
 ' 
 Whene'er thy fatal lightnings blaze, ;) v/o 
 
 Mankind begin to dread their doom ; 
 Thy arrows pierce, thy fhafts amaze, 
 
 The world, and, like thy voice, confume, 
 
 Shot by thy arm from off the sky, 
 
 Scattering pale death, where'er they fly. 
 
 of etiT 
 
 Beneath thy guardian wings above, 
 
 From the dire foe my virtue keep, 
 And let thy arm, and let thy love 
 
 Releafe me from the whelming deep. 
 
 Oh, bid the treach'rous tongue be dill ; 
 
 And damp the arm ftretch'd out to kill ! 
 
 For
 
 Sacred HTMNS. yi 
 
 For this, my voice and heart fhall join, 
 And fbngs of fweeteft praife beftow, 
 
 Their numbers, and their mufick thine, 
 Whence life, and all life's bleflings flow ; 
 Pleas'd in eternal hymns to (ing 
 All natures God, and Ifrael's King j : jx 
 
 Kr'i/V',r ' ~ * -"V/ ""7^""^ rn<~ t'i '**-.- 
 
 From thee, the laurels that I wear 
 Receive their faired frefheft bloom ; 
 
 By thee, each rival which I fear 
 
 Shall fink in duft, and meet his doom ; 
 Do thou the warrior's rage reftrain, 
 His fvvord is weak, his courage vain* 
 
 . \\J '"frA^Y* 1'"57O lYl^'a **Sf ; l f 
 
 Oh, may our fbns, each parent's pride, 
 
 Like plants, befide clear waters grow ; 
 Or daughters like the polifh'd fide 
 
 Of the fair temple's columns mew ! 
 
 Thofe with their arm the foe repel, 
 
 In beauty thefe as much excel. 
 
 Oh, multiply blefs'd Judah's (lore, 
 
 That without want her tribes may feed ! 
 
 That her rich flocks, untold before, 
 3y thoufands on her hills may breed ; 
 
 H i Let
 
 ft. Sacred HTM MS. 
 
 Let her thick herds the mountains fold : 
 
 " ' f 
 
 Her vales look fair with flieafs of gold. 
 5iq j| 
 
 Strengthen'd by thee, his toil to bear, ' w 
 May the flrong ox the- yoke fuftain ; 
 
 No fad complaints ourZion hear, 
 
 The orphan's figh, or captive's chain ; 
 Gladnefs from every voice refound , 
 
 And all her ftreets with joy abound. 
 
 ; - JL 
 
 Happy, blefs'd7/r^/'sfav*riterace,-> & 
 By no infulting foe opprefs'd, 
 
 Who in thy arm their fafety place, 
 By thy indulgent mercies blefs'd,- 
 Who live, where great Jehovah reigns ; 
 
 Whofe peace the GOD of GODS maintains. 
 * 
 
 PSALM CXXXVII. 
 
 WHILE near Euphrates' winding flream, 
 Swell'd with our tears, we penfive lay, 
 By night lad Sion was our theme, 
 
 And Judab's vanquifh'd realms, by day ! 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 'The
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 The flow'ry banks on which we fleep, 
 For Jordan's flood, awake our moan ; 
 
 And viewing Syria's vales, we weep, 
 Thofe vales are like, but not our own. 
 
 Silent and fad, our harps unflrung, 
 Clofe to the willows fide we bound ; 
 
 Which mov'd with pity, as they hung, 
 Breath'd from each firing a mournful found 
 
 Oh, hear our dire infulting foe, 
 
 To multiply our bitter pains, 
 Command us in our utmofl woejrf ?JTO 
 
 To pleafe their ear with Z ion's flrains. 
 
 Infpire again, the victors cry^^d ^*fr ? 
 
 Thofe folemn notes, that us'd to raife 
 Your monarch's fame, when to the sky, 
 
 Your mufick bore Jehovah's praife. 
 
 Far from his loft, his wretched land, 
 
 Whofe tongue mall heaven's greatRegent fing? 
 Whofe penfive voice, whofe trembling hand, 
 
 Or fwell the note, or wake the firing ? 
 
 Oh,
 
 j-4. Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Oh, beauteous Salem, once renown'd, 
 But now the haughty conqueror's prize ; 
 
 If from our heart thy deareft found, 
 Or lov'd Idea ever flies ; 
 
 If tortur'd by the fcornful foe, 
 
 We mix not with our mournful tales, 
 
 To fill our bread with pleafing woe, 
 Thy filver fprings, and fertile vales ; 
 
 May every tongue that weeps thy fate 
 
 Be, in eternal filence, bound ; 
 Each curious hand its skill abate, 
 
 So long in every art renown'd. 
 
 The fighs we breathe, and tears we fhower, 
 (To moan thy fall, when now enclin'd,) 
 
 Tho' fad and frequent, want a power 
 To drive thy image from our mind. 
 
 Oh, whet thy fvvord, thy arm difplay, 
 Great God, thy keeneft fhafts prepare 
 
 Againft proud Edom's fbns, that they 
 May feel, like us, extreme defpair \ 
 
 Oh,
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Oh, call to mind the haughty found, 
 (Thy altars, nor thy prefence own'd) 
 
 Threatening to level with the ground 
 That temple, where thou liv'fl enthron'd. 
 
 Blefs'd he, who in their bofom flains 
 His fword, to make their ruin fore j 
 
 And gives each heart thofe throbbing pains 
 That Ifrael's wretchec) race endure. 
 
 Their fons no eye fhall then bemoan, 
 
 (Tho* moiften'd long with grief and tears) 
 
 When dafli'd againft th* unpitying ftone, 
 Or fmoaking on our bloody fpears. 
 
 PSALM XLVL 
 
 o D is our ftrong defence and tower, 
 Our fword and fliield,his might and power; 
 While he their fury does reflrain, 
 Man's arm is weak ; and man is vain. 
 
 Whofe heart fhall any terror fear, 
 Whofe eye be fad, when he is near ? 
 
 Tho'
 
 f6 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Tho' the fix'd earth no longer flay, 
 But from his prefence flies away ; 
 
 Altho' the raging tempeft fweep 
 
 The fearful hills into the deep, 
 
 Whofe high and whelming billows hide 
 
 Tl 1 J I 1 ' l. i 
 
 Their drowned tops beneath the tide ; 
 
 Tho' the loud waves begin to fvvell, 
 Where with huge noife the mountains fell ; 
 Their peace the upright fhall maintain ; 
 
 When fear, and horrors fliake the main. 
 
 f) 
 
 To Sakm's towers his hand does bring, 
 Thro' fertile meads, the filver fpring ; 
 Which round her walls in murmurs plays, 
 And gladnefs to each eye conveys. 
 
 ' ' ' ' % 
 
 The city which his arms embrace, 
 
 His facred red, and dwelling place, 
 Tranfported hears the waters flow, 
 
 --.r. ' , rjf . 
 
 And views with joy the dreams below. 
 
 Taught by his prefence to deride 
 The victor's, rage, and mortal pride, 
 
 No
 
 Sacred HTMltS. f7 
 
 No flrength her bulwarks lhall deface, 
 Where he has chofe his ftrength to place. 
 
 Tho' the fierce nations of out foes 
 Her beauties fcorn ; and walls enclofe, 
 Speak thod, and whelm'd with dire difmay> 
 The warrior's heart lhall melt away. 
 
 t i- ' 
 
 The God, that damps the hero's pride 
 In battle, rights on IfraeFs fide ; 
 Throws o'er his head the fhadowing ihield 
 
 In the dire war, and bleeding field. 
 
 . ' 
 
 See on each plain with flaughter red, 
 His kindling' vengeance heaps the dead ; 
 By whofe confitming breath decreed, 
 The nations fall, and mighty bleed. 
 
 His awful voice, from off the skies, 
 Now bids the dreadful battle rife ; 
 'Till the wide world, his fury o'er, 
 Is huih'd in peace ; and war no more. 
 
 His breath, in anger when he fpeaks, 
 Unbends the bow ; the arrow breaks ; 
 
 I Docs
 
 y8 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Does to vile dufl the vi&or turn ; 
 And bids the warrior chariot burn. 
 
 As He in wrath reveals his will, 
 Tremble, thou earth ! ye feas be ftill. 
 Exalt his name, by whofe command, 
 Your billows foam, and mountains (land. 
 
 The God, that damps the hero's pride 
 In battle, fights on Ifrael's fide ; 
 Throws o'er his head the madowing Ihield, 
 In the dark fight ; and bleeding field. 
 
 PSALM LXV. 
 
 VY THERE Siotfs lofty towers afcend, 
 And mingle with the golden skies, 
 
 Our knees to God in worfhip bend, 
 Each day our rich oblations rife. 
 There at his mrine thofe gifts we lay, 
 Each grateful heart had vow'd to pay. 
 
 To him the fad in flghs repair, 
 
 Reveal their woes> and pangs impart ; 
 And, in the fervency of prayer, 
 
 Throw wide, and open all their heart ; 
 
 Before
 
 Sacred HTMNS. j 9 
 
 Before his throne their griefs repeat, 
 Knowing bis mercies full as great. 
 
 Thrice happy ! whom beneath thy care 
 No forrows damp, or ills opprefs ; 
 
 Whom refcu'd from extreme defpair, 
 Thy pity chufes out to blefs ! 
 Their ravifh'd hearts no terrors fear, 
 Whom thy fair courts, and prefence chear. 
 
 A thoufand figns thy arm of old, 
 
 Of its ftrong might and vigour, gave ; 
 To us thy wonders too unfold, 
 
 Fierce to avenge, or fond to fave ; 
 
 Who do 'ft on earth our fteps fuftain ; 
 
 And guide us, when we crofs the main. 
 
 Firm on their bafe, by his command, 
 The cloud-dividing mountains rife ; 
 
 Built ftrong by his puiflant hand, 
 
 They foar aloft, and meet the skies ; 
 He does the floods in prifbns keep, 
 And ftills the roarings of the deep. 
 
 I ^ His
 
 60 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 His voice the conlcious ocean knows ; 
 Which, rolling now in all its pride, 
 
 By the lame mighty voice it role, 
 By the fame voice again fub fides. 
 Who, with its billows, does allay 
 
 Man's rage, as wild and loud as they, 
 
 1 . 
 
 Who tread the utmoft verge of earth 
 
 Shall tremble at thy fearful figns ; 
 Or where the morning takes her birth ; 
 
 Or where the day each eve declines ; 
 
 Each region where the fun difplays 
 
 His glorious light mall fing thy praife. 
 
 By thee each cloud in plenty pours 
 Its dreams of foft defending rain ; 
 
 To blefs the earth ; whole gentle lliow'rs 
 Make green the hill, and clothe the plain ; 
 Bid the gay Ipring its buds unfold, 
 And load each field with waving gold. 
 
 Each river, which thy bounty fills 
 
 With waters, boafts from thee a power, 
 
 As thro' the glebe its juice diftills, 
 
 To fwell the grain, and wake the flower ; 
 
 From
 
 Sacred HYMNS. 61 
 
 From whence a thoufand births arife, 
 
 To cheer man's heart, and charm his eyes. 
 
 On the earth's fruitful bofbm thrown, 
 
 Heaven's drops infpire the mellow'd foil^ 
 Whofe richnefs does thy bounty own, 
 
 Kind to repay the reaper's toil ; 
 
 Who fees with joy his harvcfts wave ; 
 
 Svvell'd with thofe dews thy ev'nings gave. 
 
 The clouds, obedient to thy will, 
 Give to each vale a large encreafe ; 
 
 With verdure clothe the naked hill, 
 And make the barren defart pleafe ; 
 Blefs'd by the influence of the fphere, 
 Thy goodnels crowns the lufty year. 
 
 Each beauteous part of nature round 
 Thy hand with various gifts does fill ; 
 
 With golden ilieafs the plains abound 
 Beneath ; with flocks the rifmg hill. 
 That anfwer every human need, 
 And clothe mankiqd, as well as feed. 
 
 J S\ - . x r 
 
 PSALM 
 
 '
 
 6% Sacred HTM NS. 
 PSALM XXIX. 
 
 YE mighty, who the nations fway, 
 And ftretch your rule o'er every land ; 
 A name more mighty yet obey 
 
 The God, who gave you your command. 
 
 Proftrate before his footflool lye, 
 And, as your vi&iins are decreed, 
 
 His altars with rich blood to dye, 
 Pay him due worfhip as they bleed. 
 
 'Tis he, whofe word and fearful voice 
 The tumult of the waves reftrains ; 
 
 Who calms the madding ocean's noife, 
 And flrongly holds the flood in chains ; 
 
 He fits above the ftarry pole, 
 
 His feat for ever to endure ; 
 Who calmly hears his thunders roll, 
 
 Amaz'd the earth ; himfelf fecurc. 
 
 As his almighty word commands. 
 
 The feas are hufh'd ; or fly away ; 
 While on their fhoar whatever (lands 
 
 Attends With dread, as well as they ! 
 
 As
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 As from the cloud his voice defcends, 
 Trembling the earth ; confus'd the skies, 
 
 The found the lofty cedars rends. 
 
 And the ftrong hill, on which they rife. 
 
 Not Libanon, thy tow'ring height, 
 Which, like a cloud, aloft does mow 
 
 Thy fear, or terrors cou'd abate 
 When he in anger fpoke below. 
 
 Rock'd from thy bafe, the herds that breed 
 Near thy green paftures hafte away ; 
 
 Thy top, whereon they joy'd to feed, 
 Shook, and amaz'd as much as they. 
 
 Tho' the rude dorm the foreft bears ; 
 
 Unmov'd can hear the tempefl's noife j 
 Thofe trees the furious whirlwind fpares 
 
 Thy fierce, and ftronger breath deftroys. 
 
 The wildernefs in pieces tore, f 
 Its oaks all fhiver'd on the ground, 
 
 Can bear the angry blaft no more, 
 
 Confcious, that God was in the found. 
 
 His
 
 Sacred Hr MRS. 
 
 His wrath difclofing from the skies, 
 The fearful hind with terror flung, 
 
 To the dark covert trembling flies, 
 And drops her faint untimely young ! 
 
 His feat prepar'd above the cloud, 
 The feas from thence he does furvey ; 
 
 His mighty voice more flrong and loud, 
 More terrible to man, than they 5 . 
 
 Each after each, a race of duft, 
 
 By turns earth's monarchs die, and fpring ; 
 That name, that God in whom we trufl, 
 
 Lives flill ador'd ; for ever King. 
 
 Each work, in which his arm excells* 
 Tho* every voice attempts to raife, 
 
 Yet where his dreadful glory dwells, 
 His temple, founds with loudefl praife. 
 
 From him our hand receives its might, 
 Our troops fuccefs, and fwords renown ; 
 
 Who gives us triumph in the fight, 
 
 Then does with peace that triumph crown. 
 
 PSALM
 
 Sacred HTM N S. 6? 
 PSALM VI. 
 
 To yonder hills, that reach the sky, 
 I lift my voice, my eyes I bend ; 
 Where fits inthron'd the God on high, 
 Whole mercy does my foul defend. 
 
 v ?;.' !& iltcli vif/i ; forfi o* o / ei I i 
 Who gave the heavens their wond'rous birth, 
 
 With heaven his glories to endure, 
 Who call'd from fliades the beauteous earth, 
 Is he who does my peace fecure. 
 
 With kindeft love who guides aright 
 My erring fleps, no flumber knows ; 
 
 By day dill watchful, and by night 
 Who ne'er permits his eye to clofe. 
 
 From his ftrong arm which damps below 
 The pride and pomp of earthly kings, 
 
 Does my deliv'rance ever flow, 
 
 And Judatis great redemption fprings. 
 
 The fcorching flames, that burn by day, 
 Upon my brow fhall never light ; 
 
 Nor the red fires my foul difmay, 
 
 That kindle half the heavens by night. 
 
 K Tho'
 
 66 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Tho' num'rous ills my head furround, 
 The wafting plague, and venom'd dart, 
 
 My God fhall every foe confound, 
 Drive every anguifh from my heart. 
 
 His voice their fury mall allay 
 
 Who third to drink my guilrlefs gore ; 
 My God, my great defence to day, 
 
 My might and iliield for evermore. 
 
 PSALM CXXXIX. 
 
 Y thy furrouuding watchful eyes, 
 
 Great God, are all my counfels read ; 
 Both when I fit, and when I rile, 
 
 Thy pow'r I own, and prefence dread. 
 
 In the deep foldings of my heart, 
 Each fecret guilt, and dark defign, 
 
 I may conceal with care and art 
 
 From human fearch, but not from thine. 
 
 Jw ~, 
 The
 
 Sacred HT MRS. 
 
 The midnight couch on which I fleep, 
 The lonefome paths thro' which I ftray, 
 
 From thee, my ,errors cannot keep, 
 
 Whofe fhades are light ; whofe darknefs day. 
 
 E're yet my words have utt'rance found, 
 
 Thy eye into my heart can fee ; 
 My formlefs thoughts, e're cloth'd with found, 
 
 All mark'd, and open all to thee. 
 
 My curious frame thy hand has wrought, 
 
 Which owns thy work, and fpeaks thy praife ; 
 
 Each part too high for human thought 
 To form, or human art to raife, 
 
 Such wonders of thy love and might 
 The heart of man mail ne'er explore ; 
 
 Such wifdom, hid from human fight, 
 We cannot learn but may adore. 
 
 Where then mall I direct my flight, 
 To what dark Ipace of nature fly ; 
 
 Unmark'd by thy purfuing fight, 
 Concealed from thy all-feeing eye ? 
 
 It
 
 68 Sacred HT MRS, 
 
 If with an eagle's ftrength I foar, 
 
 And to thy heavens cou'd find a way 
 
 I view myfelf with light all o'er, 
 
 Encompafs'd round with thee and day ! 
 
 If to the horrid Ihades of hell 
 
 I chufe for fafety to retire, 
 There does thy radiant prefence dwell, 
 
 Turning the dusky gloom to fire ! 
 
 Or ihou'd thy wrath my foul afright, 
 Beneath the fea's refbunding wave ; 
 
 In hopes, conceal'd from human fight, 
 To find a refuge, or a grave ! 
 
 Thy hand and eye wou'd both purfue 
 My fleps below the cloven main ; 
 
 Its depths laid open to thy view, 
 
 Where man, vain man, lies hid in vain ; 
 
 Nor fliall my impious heart prefume, 
 In {hades of night myfelf to hide ; 
 
 Since thou can'fl cut the midnight gloom, 
 And with one look the cloud divide. 
 
 
 The 5
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 69 
 
 Tho* darknefs may the globe furround, 
 And quench the fun's extinguilh'd ray ; 
 
 Yet, to thy eye, the circuit round 
 
 The wide expanfion flames with day ! 
 
 To thee, inclos'd in radiant light, 
 AH nature flill appears the fame ; 
 
 Or when the fun retires at night ; 
 
 Or when the morn brings back his flame. 
 
 PSALM CXXXVL 
 
 BE Jacob's God thy wond'rous theme, 
 The God above all gods fupreme J 
 To man his mercies ever fure, 
 With time his glories to endure. 
 
 Select his worthy acl: to fmg, 
 The world's great Ruler ; I/rael's King ; 
 Thy voice at once and bofbm fire 
 With raptures, which his deeds infpire ! 
 
 Whatever great thou do'ft behold, 
 
 What wondrous now, or wrought of old ; 
 
 By
 
 70 Sacred HTM N S. 
 
 By his ftrong arm was brought to light ; 
 Or by his word, or by his might ^ 
 
 The golden heavens, that flame above, 
 Were rais'd by his unbounded love ; 
 Confetti ng, as they round us mine, 
 The hand that fram'd 'em was divine. 
 
 The earth that does the fea inclofe, TO 
 
 At his almighty call, arofe ; 
 From weft to eaft began her flight, 
 And Iprung from darknefs into light. 
 
 The glorious lamps that blaze on high, 
 The beauteous orbs which light the sky, 
 Each confcious whence its luftre fprung, 
 By his great word aloft was fprung. 
 
 He firft ordain'd, with filver light, 
 A train of ftars to drefs the night ; 
 Which chafe the gloomy lhades away, 
 And with their brightnels rival day. 
 
 His hand their guide, the chofen band 
 Of Ifrael left the Memphian flrand ; 
 
 Whom
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 71 
 
 Whom now proud Nile no more detains, 
 On his curft more, in fervile chains. 
 
 Whofe word but his cou'd cleave the tide, 
 Or bid the op'ning waves divide > 
 The ocean's boundlefs rage reftrain 
 Or curb the madnefs of the main. 
 
 To yield the refcu'd tribes a way 
 The waves no more their paffage (lay ; 
 Which o'er proud 'Pharaoh's head refbund ; " 
 And whelm his hoft in gulphs profound. 
 
 Up-lifted long, the floods no more 
 Are to themfelves a chryftal more ; 
 But, ruining backward, now inclofe 
 The tyrant's power j and Jacob's foes. 
 
 He, through the wafte, his people brings, 
 The delart now refreih'd with iprings j 
 Where-e'er their wond'rous journey lies, 
 Green herbage Iprouts, and fountains rife. 
 
 As now they move by his command, 
 To reach fair Judafrs diftant land ; 
 
 Not
 
 7i Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Not Sebon's arm, or he who fway'd 
 Bafan's wide realm, their progrefs ftay'd. 
 
 By him, their fudden doom decreed, 
 The princes fall ; and valiant bleed ; 
 And earth's proud kings, man's empty truft, 
 Lie down in death, and fleep in duft. 
 
 The vanquifh'd kingdoms of his foes, 
 On Jacob's race, his love bellows ; 
 Whofe voice the nations now attend, 
 A And to the Viftor's fcepter bend ; 
 
 ^ 
 
 f His ihield, above our armies fpread, 
 v Secures from dangers, and from dread ; 
 -Does to each breaft a flrength impart, 
 And drives pale fear from every heart. 
 
 To man his bounty kindly gives 
 Wherewith he joys ; whereon he lives. 
 Each creature elfe with food fupplies ; 
 Thronging the earth, or fea, or skies. 
 
 Oh, to the God of gods flill raife 
 Your folemn fong ; your facred praife , 
 
 Still
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 73 
 
 Still let the Lord, of lords fupreme, 
 Be your delight ; as well as theme ! 
 
 PSALM XCIII. 
 
 YE earthly kings, your pride reftrain, 
 And humbly own Jehovah's reign 4 
 Who, chu(es, for his bright attire, 
 A radiant robe of fearful fire ! 
 
 Oh, bend before that mighty name, 
 Whofe arm is ftrength ! whofe garment florae ; 
 On whom man's eye can never gaze, 
 Without remorfe, or dire amaze! 
 
 Each impious nation to afrighr, 
 He girds himfelf with matchlefs might ; 
 Almighty wrath, refiftlefs power, 
 His arms, proud empires to devour ; 
 
 The ftedfaft earth, on which we move, 
 Rofe from his kind creating love ; 
 Which, on her bafe, mall reft fecure, 
 And, like the orbs above, endure ; 
 
 L Before
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Before the birth of early time, 
 
 Thy throne was built in heav'n fublime ; 
 
 With clouds of glory overcaft ; 
 
 By thee begun, with thee to lafL 
 
 Altho' the floods, with dreadful noife, 
 Spread wide their rage, and lift their voice, 
 
 The fhoar unable to reftrain 
 
 . ' 
 
 The fury of the roaring main ; 
 
 The God, that dwells in yonder cloud, 
 Has yet a voice more ilrong and loud ;, 
 Who to the furge its fury gave, 
 And can appeafe its proudeft wave. 
 
 One glance from his commanding eye 
 Bids the wild ocean peaceful lye ; 
 Their bounds th' obedient billows keep ; 
 Calming the outrage of the deep. 
 
 PSALM 
 
 U'/
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 77 
 PSALM CXLVII. 
 
 WITH choirs above, and angels join'd, 
 4 In longs Jehovah's might to raife, 
 What can the blefs'd adorer find 
 
 More comely, than to (ing his praife ; mlW 
 
 Within whofe reach all nature lies ; 
 
 Who fram'd the earth ; and fpread the skies. 
 
 His arm fliall Sion's walls repair, 
 
 Tho' fcatter'd now her ruins lie ; 
 Build every beauteous Ipire more fair, 
 
 And every lofty tovv'r more high ; 
 
 Infafety home her captives bring, 
 
 To bow before blefs'd I/rael's King ! 
 
 His hand the wretch's wound does bind, 
 
 Does to the weak new ftrength impart j 
 Well pleas'd to calm the troubled mind, 
 
 And to revive the broken heart ; 
 
 . 
 
 Whofe mercy takes delight to fave, 
 And call the dying from the grave. 
 
 L The
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 The beauteous fhrs, with golden light, 
 Along the azure heavens that flame, 
 
 He numbers o'er each joyful night, 
 And gives each ftar a glorious name ; 
 Knows their bright progrefs thro' the sky, 
 Whence they return, and where they fly. 
 
 Nothing our G o D excels in might, 
 
 With his flrong arm, in flrength can vie ; 
 
 Nothing can foar fo great a height, 
 Unlefs his wifclom is as high. 
 Who does the proud in wrath confound $ 
 And lifts the humble from the ground. 
 
 Qh wake the harp ! each golden firing, 
 His praife repeat in folemn flrains ; 
 
 Who o'er the heaven's a cloud does bring, 
 And pours on earth his fruitful rains, 
 To raife the fpringing herb, decreed ; 
 To glad the flocks ; weak man to feed. 
 
 The herds that graze the lofty hills, 
 Or chufe more lov'd the nether plains 
 
 His bounteous love with herbage fills, 
 And the wild raven's young Mains ; 
 
 Nurs'd
 
 Sacred HT MRS. 77 
 
 Nurs'd by his care, ihe leaves her brood ; 
 Who, from his hand, receive their food. 
 
 His fcornful eye takes no delight 
 
 The horfe's beauty to behold ; 
 Too weak and vain to pleafe his fight 
 
 The fwifr, the valiant, or the bold. 
 
 Beyond the great, he loves the juft ; 
 
 And thofe who make his arm their trufL 
 
 Oh Sion I chufe thy nobleft fbng, 
 
 On him, thy fweeteft praife beftow ; 
 Who makes thy gates with iron ftrong, 
 
 And guards thy walls from every foe. 
 
 Who does with grace thy fons adorn ; 
 
 And vows to blefs thy race unborn. 
 
 His voice mall ftill the battle's rage, 
 Bid difcord end, and tumults ceafe ; 
 
 The madnefs of the war affwage 
 
 And crown thy fields with fmiling peace. 
 
 Thy fbns at reft allow 'd to feed 
 
 On the rich fheafs thy furrows breed. 
 
 Swift
 
 78 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Swift to the earth's extremeft bound, 
 
 His dread commands, like light'ning, fly ; 
 Of his great pow'r proclaim the found 
 
 To worlds remote, and regions nigh. 
 
 Which round, his wond'rous acls repeat ; 
 
 How juft his laws ! his might how great ! 
 
 From the chill- d air the fleecy mow, 
 Like wool, in downy flakes defcends ; 
 
 While from his heaven to worlds below 
 Keen frofts, his yoke, like afhes, fends ; 
 Who can his winters rage fuftain. 
 Nor ihrink beneath the fhudd'ring pain. 
 
 But fofter feafons now arife, 
 
 Warm'd by the vigorous melting fun ; 
 Again th' unfetter'd current flies, 
 
 The ftream again begins to run ; 
 
 While from the weft kind Zephires blow, 
 
 And give the floods once more to flow. 
 
 To Slon he his will reveals, 
 
 Where his own Godhead does refide j 
 Not thus with heathen nations deals, 
 
 Or any fav'rite realm befide ; 
 
 In
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 79 
 
 In Ifrael all his judgments mown, 
 To every nation elfe unknown. 
 
 PSALM XC. 
 
 FR o M age to age, thou, mighty Lord, 
 Do'fl to frail man thy arm afford ; 
 Whate'er we aft, where'er we go, 
 A guard and refuge from the foe. 
 
 Before the fpacious earth was fpread, 
 Or mountains rais'd their lofty head, 
 E're yet the numerous worlds on high 
 Began their progrefs thro' the sky ; 
 
 Thou then waft God j thy awful name, 
 For ever hallow'd ; dill the fame ; 
 Whom now we fmg \ and fhall adore, 
 When thou art {till, but time no more , 
 
 To day, at thy commanding breath, 
 We deep in duft ; and yield to death ; 
 Our beauty at thy word refign, 
 Too weak to combate wrath divine ; 
 
 To
 
 8o Sacred HTMNS* 
 
 To morrow, calming now thy ire, 
 Thou do'fl: our clay with life inlpire, 
 Giving agafn our ravifh'd eye 
 To blefs thy works, and view the sky. 
 
 As ages paft thou do'fl forvey, 
 A thoufand years are fcarce a day ; 
 Which feem like fhadows to thy fight ; 
 Or dreams, when chas'd away by light. 
 
 Jufl as the flream is bore away, 
 Our life rolls on ; and we decay ; 
 As the fair flower, our eye admires 
 Each morn, which yet at eve expires I 
 
 Oh, wither not our ages bloom ; 
 For in thy anger we confume j 
 Too weak to bear thy blafting breath j 
 Thy dire rebuke, man's inftant death. 
 
 'Tis thine with terrors to controul 
 The haughty heart ; and guilty foul ; 
 Amaze and grief, and fear to med 
 Around the trembling finner's head ; 
 
 The
 
 Sacred tiTMNS. 81 
 
 The fecret fins which we enfold, 
 Deep in our heart, we can behold ; 
 Hid from the world, they open lie 
 
 To thy all-feeing won'drous eye. 
 
 I 
 
 Our ftrength altho' we now admire, 
 Speak thou in wrath, and we expire ; 
 Our youth decays ; our life is o'er, 
 And man, frail man, is now no more. ' 
 
 To fourfcore years, tho' we arrive^ 
 *Tis then our grief, we are alive ; 
 Yet cannot long life's toil endure, 
 So weak our ftrength ! the grave fo lure. 
 
 Robb'd of each blifs* we then fuftain 
 Each fcene of fadnefs and of pain ; 
 Which does our wretched age confame. 
 Nor loft, till loft within a tomb, 
 
 Whofe voice in limits fhall confine 
 Almighty power, or rage divine ? 
 The anger of the Godhead bound, 
 Which does the weak, and ftrong confound ? 
 
 M When
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 When thy difpleafiwe gives us pain, 
 Tis greater, than our fears can feign : 
 Pouring on his aftonifh'd head 
 Thofe ills, man's heart cou'd never dread. 
 
 Oh, teach us from the years w* have paft, 
 With care to manage well our laft ; 
 And, as our ebbing life decays, 
 Oh, guide our fteps in virtue's ways. 
 
 In pity to our woes return ; 
 
 Nor longer joy to view us mourn ; 
 
 But from thy heavenly throne impart 
 
 Thofe fmiles, which heal the faddeft heart ! 
 
 Infpire us with thofe looks of love, 
 Which cheer and charm the blefs'd above ; 
 Thy beams of mercy wide difplay, 
 And drive each forrow far away. 
 
 Then mail our fons, thy chofen race, 
 Without a dread, behold thy face ; 
 When on thy brow no frown appears, 
 To damp our joys, or wake our fears ! 
 
 The
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 83 
 
 The heaven and earth we then mall gaze, 
 Each thy great work, without amaze ; 
 Adoring with each grateful thought 
 The hand, which each fair fabrick wrought. 
 
 Oh, flilJ in fmiles, thy felf impart 
 To the pleas'd eye, and ravifh'd heart ; 
 With looks of kindeft mercy fhine ; 
 Ours all the toil ; the bleffing thine. 
 
 PSALM CXLVIII. 
 
 . 
 
 E wing'd battalions of the sky, 
 
 For ever cloth'd with faired light, 
 Who watch your great Creator's eye, 
 And, as he guides, dired your flight ; 
 Ye firft his glories to admire. 
 
 Be firft to fill the vocal choir. 
 
 ' . 
 
 His might, ye faints and leraphs, fing, 
 From morn to eve the ftrain prolong ; 
 Touch the glad harp, awake the firing, 
 Pleas'd to record the facred fong ! 
 
 M % Infpir'd
 
 8* Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Infpir'd by his celeftial beam, 
 
 Let him, that gave it, be your theme. 
 
 Ye golden worlds of light above, 
 
 That fcatter round the earth your flame, 
 
 Whene'er ye mine, where-e'er ye move , 
 Oh, find a voice to tell his fame ! 
 His praife exalt ; and hand admire 
 Which gave each radiant lamp its fire. 
 
 .'. . . '.. j ; . iOl On * 
 
 Thou fun, whofe orb with glory flreams, 
 
 Parent and fource of heavenly light ; 
 Thou moon, whofe borrpw'4 beauteous beamSj 
 
 Adorn the fable brow of night ; 
 
 Bear, as ye fly, his fame along ; 
 
 And with his wonders (well the fbng. 
 
 Ye train pf ftars, whofe glitt'ring fire r - 
 
 Divides the fhade ; the darknefs cheers ; t - y 
 Do you aflift the upper choir, 
 
 And pour foft flrains from all your fpheres j 
 
 Grateful to him, who fits above 
 
 And guides that heaven wherein ye move. ; 
 
 Ye
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 85- 
 
 Ye chryftal fountains of the skies, 
 Rernov'd fo'far from human fight, 
 
 As your clear dreams defcend or rife, 
 Oh, bear in mind his matchlefs might,; 
 By whofe command ye upwards flow, 
 
 Or falling cheer the vales below. 
 
 X - * ' p 
 
 Each orb his 1 fcand, or counfel, guides 
 Thro' the blue fpaces of the air ; 
 
 Which fwiftly moves, or gently Hides 
 With clouds obfcur'd, or beauties fair ^ 
 Thro' the fame track, for ever flies, 
 
 Mark'd out, by his directing eyes -, 
 .'!, J & J . 
 
 Stedfaft and firm each axle turns, 
 
 Brings on the night, renews the 'day ; 
 With one great ame each planet burns, 
 
 And pours around one conftant ray ! 
 
 r J ? A 
 
 Nor time, till nature now expires, 
 
 Shall damp their heat ; or quench their fires ! 
 
 Ye floods ! and thou refbunding deep, 
 Whofe billows lave each briny fhore ; 
 
 Both when ye rage, and w'hen ye fleep, 
 With all your waves his fame adore ! 
 
 Which
 
 8<? Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Which the dire dragons fhall proclaim, 
 With hifling found, and tongues of flame ; 
 
 Ye meteors, that along the air 
 Dreadfully mine to human eye, 
 
 Or drefs the comets flaming hair, 
 Or give the temped wings to fly ; 
 As now ye burft the op'ning cloud, 
 Ulter his praiie abroad ; as loud. 
 
 Ye winds and vapour ; fire and mow, 
 
 Who high in airy chambers dwell ; 
 Whene'er ye rage, where-e'er ye blow, 
 
 His praife thro* every region tell ; 
 
 Still arm'd, his lummons to fulfill ; 
 
 To blaft or fpare ; to fave or kill ; 
 
 Ye branching pines, where-e'er ye grow, 
 As to yon heaven your tops afcend, 
 
 Or from the hills, or vale below, 
 In fign of folemn worlhip bend ; 
 The mountains, as your tops they view, 
 With rev'rence (loop, (hall worlhip too. 
 
 Ye
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 87 
 
 Ye frlver nations of the deep, 
 
 Ye tribes that wing the upper air, 
 
 Ye herds that in the vallies fleep, 
 Or to the groves for lhade repair ; 
 His goodnefs in remembrance keep, 
 Ye fowls that fly, and worms that creep. 
 
 Ye thunders, with a mighty found, 
 (Still uiher'd by the lightning's blaze) 
 
 That make all nature's frame around, 
 And chill each heart with dire amaze ; 
 
 As now ye rend the fulphurous cloud, 
 
 Tremble, and own his voice more loud. 
 
 Virgins and youth, in glory high, 
 
 With grace adorn'd, and beauty crown'd, 
 
 Infants, in tender accents try 
 
 To lifp that praife, ye cannot found, 
 
 All in the blifsful task engage, 
 
 From blooming youth, to bending age. 
 
 Oh, (till our mighty God abide, 
 
 Already fair, the fame prolong 
 Of Jacob's race, their power more wide 
 
 Growing each day ; their horn more flrong ; 
 
 That
 
 83 Sacred HTM N S. 
 
 That all thy faints their gifts may bring 
 And of thy love and mercy fmg. 
 
 PSALM LXXXVIII. 
 
 PARENT of blifs ! to whom each day 
 My foul in fadnefs I impart ; 
 Up to thy throne each night convey 
 The forrows of a mourner's heart ; 
 Oh, bend from heaven thy lifl'ning ear, 
 A wretch's dire complaints to hear ! 
 
 Frequent and loud my fighs afcend, 
 
 From my fad couch to reach thy sky ; 
 
 Juft like the feeble, when they bend 
 With years, or when the aged die ; 
 Panting each mournful hour for breath. 
 And, as I pant, dill dreading death. 
 
 With tears thy mercy as I crave, 
 And humbly bow before thy fhrine, 
 
 The dead, within their filent grave 
 
 Conceal'd, have looks refembling mine ; 
 Robb'd of the wretched power to moan, 
 I fcarce have flrength to weep alone. 
 
 My
 
 Sacred HT M N S. 89 
 
 My years are pad ! my life is o'er, 
 Like thofe who late in battle bled ; 
 
 Mix'd With the living now no more ; 
 But number'd with the breathlefs dead*, 
 By thy confuming wrath o'erthrown ; 
 Forgot by all ^ - to all unknown. 
 
 Beneath the deep's o'erwhelming tide, 
 Where fhades afright, and horrors dwell* 
 
 Thy arm, and anger, I abide, 
 
 To the deaf waves my forrows tell ; 
 By thee the fearful billows led 
 To foam above my drowned head. 
 
 Thy fwift tempeftuous wrath to 
 
 To fhades, for fafety, I retire, 
 O'ertaken, as I vainly run, 
 
 By thy devouring ftorm, and fire ; 
 
 Unfelt till now, unheard before, 
 
 Thy arrows fall - and tempefts roar, 
 
 Far off to fly my hateful fight 
 
 Once dear, my lov'd companions go ; 
 
 Who in my joys once took delight, 
 Or liv'd the partners of my wo j 
 
 N From
 
 90 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 From man no fuccour man Ihall find, 
 Who moans, like me, his God unkind. 
 
 Beneath the dungeon's horrid gloom, 
 O'erloaded with the feft'ring chain. 
 
 Each day in anguifli I confume, 
 
 And wade each lonely night in pain : 
 My foul from bondage cannot free, 
 Confined in wrath, great God, by thee. 
 
 Dimm'd with the forrows which they mower, 
 Each night depriv'd of pleafing fleep, 
 
 My eyes have only now a power, 
 Unhappy power, to pine and weep ; 
 My heart o'erwhelm'd with every pain. 
 Breathing in fighs to thee in vain ! 
 
 Do'fl thou with fmiles revive the dead, 
 Quicken our dud within the grave ? 
 
 In darknefs are thy wonders read, 
 In dire deftru&ion do'ft thou fave > 
 Who, in the vales of death, mall find 
 Potent, thy arm ; thy mercy kind > 
 
 Wil't
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 91 ^ 
 
 ' 
 
 WiFt thou thy faith fmcerely keep, 
 
 With mould'ring earth ? our atoms raife 
 
 From the cold taanfions where they fleep, 
 Infpir'd with breath, to fuig thy praiie ? 
 Shall our dead duff- adore thy sky, 
 
 Or mercy find us, when we die ? 
 
 ,- .n \iytis& t will r iotia: 
 In vain, in death's eternal night, 
 
 Are thy tranfcendent wonders mown ; 
 In vain, thy love is brought to light 
 
 In the dark ihades, where none are known ; 
 
 When with their houfe of clay o'er-fpread 5 
 
 Forgetting, and forgot the dead ? 
 
 When to thy heaven each morn I bend, 
 
 Before the fun brings back the day, 
 Why do my vows thy ears offend, 
 
 Why are my forfows flung away > 
 
 Regardlefs of that bitter fmart, 
 
 Thy anger fixes in my heart. 
 
 Feeble and faint behold I lie 
 
 In fadnefs draw my wretched breath ; 
 
 Panting like thofe, who, when they die, 
 Hear with defpair the voice of death ,' 
 
 N * Parfu'd
 
 ?i Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Purfa'd by thy avenging rage, 
 
 From guilrlefs youth, to (looping age ! 
 
 Thy wrath and dire difpleafare drowns 
 My melting foul in deep delpair ; 
 
 The dread of thee, thy killing frowns, 
 Too fierce for man, weak man, to bear j 
 Thy terrors, like a fearful tide, 
 Clofing me round on every fide. 
 
 As thou do'il all my beauty fpoil, 
 My friends, and lovers, fly away ; 
 
 thofe, that courted once my fmile, 
 With fcorn, their wretched king furvey f 
 Weeping, they turn their ear afide ; 
 And, as I figh, my fighs deride. 
 
 PSALM LXXIX, 
 
 WHERE thou hafl chofen to refide, 
 Great God, fair Salem's beauteous towers ; 
 The heathen, with a conqueror's pride, 
 And with a foe's revenge devours ! 
 Thy temple round with (laughter red ; 
 we adore, as well as dread. 
 
 The
 
 Sacred HTM N S, 93 
 
 The city once thy dwelling place, 
 
 With duft and ruins cover'd o'er, 
 Their rage overturns ; their fvvords deface, 
 
 Made wet with wretched Judatis gore ; 
 
 No friends their dying friends to mourn ; 
 
 No eye to weep around their urn. 
 
 The victor's fury to allay, 
 
 The bodies of our heroes (lain 
 Become the wolves untimely prey, 
 
 The vulture's food, on every plain. 
 
 Whofe blood, like waves, our wall furrounds, 
 
 That itfues from their dreaming wounds. 
 
 Fair Z'ton^ once, thy dear delight, 
 
 Does Syria s loud derifion grow ; 
 Qnce great in arms, and fam'd in figHr, 
 
 The fcorn of each prevailing foe : 
 
 We fmk beneath thy jealous ire, 
 
 And near thy blafling breath expire. 
 
 Oh, turn thy Ihafcs ! and let the foe, 
 
 Deriding now thy mighty power. 
 Thy anger feel ; thy fury know 
 
 The vengeance of one fearful hour ; 
 
 Who,
 
 Sacred HTM NS. 
 
 Who, whelm'd in death, acrofs each plain, 
 Shall dread thy name, they now difdain ! 
 
 The vale where filver Jordan ftray'd, 
 
 With his propitious ftrearn embraced ; 
 Is, by proud Edam's triumph, made 
 
 A fcene of death ! a frightful wade ; 
 
 No fheafs our trodden furrows yield, 
 
 No harvefts wave along the field. 
 
 Oh, drive, and banifh, from thy thought, 
 That guilr, which does our realms deftroy ; 
 
 Before thy eyes be never brought 
 Thofe fins, that rob us of each joy ; 
 Our mournful land with (laughter fill, 
 
 And more, than Edom's fury, kill. 
 
 . . ^ .,, . . 
 
 Oh, with a parent's pitying care, 
 
 Sad Judatis wretched kingdoms lave ; 
 
 And thofe thy juftice cannot fpare 
 Let thy fuperior mercy fave ; 
 Thy arm, that does our foe fubdue, 
 Mufl be both ftrong and fteady too ! 
 
 AfTert
 
 Sacred HTMNS. ^ 
 
 Afl"ert thy glorious flrength around 
 
 Thy heaven, thy might, and Godhead's fame ; 
 That impious worlds, with dread profound, 
 
 May own, and tremble at thy name ; 
 
 Nor ask, in what thy arm excells, 
 
 Who is our God, or where he dwelis ? 
 
 Rife then, in all thy fury rife, 
 Be our avenging God, once more ; 
 
 Proflrate before our ravifh'd eyes, 
 The nations glutted with our gore ; 
 Our fpeaking wounds invoke thy sky, 
 With a fad voice for vengeance cry ! 
 
 .9W 
 
 Oh, let each figh the captives fend, 
 From the dark prifon where they moan 
 
 In fadnefs, to thy heaven afcend, 
 
 And calm thy wrath ; and move thy throne ; 
 And let thy power, and pity fave 
 The prisoners, deflin'd to the grave , 
 
 On impious nations, that deride 
 
 Thy arm, a feven-fold vengeance fhower ; 
 And crufti the haughty fcorner's pride, 
 
 And quell the loud blafphemer's power. 
 
 That
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 That we thy might in fongs may raife, 
 As pleas'd to blefs, as we to praife ^ 
 
 PSALM CXLVI. 
 
 tTTniLE his kind love thy life fuflains, 
 * * And breath infpires thy fleeting frame, 
 Thy God, my foul, in rapturous ftrains 
 Adore ; his praife thy heart inflame. 
 
 In earthly kings no more we truft, 
 
 Themfelves from dread who cannot free , 
 
 Forms only of more noble duft, 
 To death devote, as well as we. 
 
 Tho' now ambitious thoughts may fire 
 Their breads, pufPd up with regal fway ; 
 
 Yet let the mighty once expire, 
 
 They mix their duft with common clay. 
 
 When the cold folemn grave mall hide 
 Earth's wretched kings beneath its gloom ; 
 
 Their counfels and their thoughts abide 
 No more forgot within the tomb. 
 
 He
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 97 
 
 fete only is in fafety blefl, 
 
 Whole heart to Israel's God can fay* 
 Thou art my hope- on thee I reft, 
 
 Thy arm, my ftrong fupport and flay j 
 
 The heavens with every luftre bright, 
 The earth, and fea that round it flows, 
 
 Fromfhades ofdarknefs into light^ 
 By his eternal word arofe ! 
 
 The promife, which he once has paft, 
 Like his own Godhead mail endure ! 
 
 The ftedfaft world is not fo faft ; 
 Nor his own feat abovej more fure ; 
 
 By his ftrong arm, and faving might* 
 The weak are from oppreflion freed ; 
 
 Whofe tender mercy takes delight 
 The hungry from his (lores to feed. 
 
 To each fad wretch beneath the sky 
 
 His bounty does a blifs impart, 
 Pours fight into the darkened eye, 
 
 And joy into the prisoner's heart. 
 
 O His
 
 9 8 Sacred HTMNS, 
 
 His hand fupports with kindeft care 
 The weak and aged, when they fall ; 
 
 Forbids the righteous to defpair 
 Who on his name in ladnefs call. 
 
 The banifh'd from their native land, 
 In every clime, their God may find ; 
 
 And, guided by his laving hand, 
 In every region own him kind. 
 
 His fmile the wretched mourner chears, 
 Whofe fighs afcend above his throne ; 
 
 Well pleas'd to dry the widow's tears, 
 And calm the helplefs orphan's moan. 
 
 Not thus the heathen realms mail prove 
 His power, blefs'd Judah's refuge ftill 
 
 Not find his arm ftretch'd out in love 
 To fave, but in revenge, to kill. 
 
 When earthly kings are turn'd to duft, 
 jiThy God, O Ston^ fhall remain 
 Thy fure defence, and facred truft, 
 For ever thron'd ; and ftill to reign ! 
 
 PSALM
 
 Sacred HTMNS. 99 
 PSALM LXXX. 
 
 THEIR vows, O Jacob's fhepherd, hear, 
 Who own thy name with facred fear ; 
 From the bright wings thyfelf unfold 
 The cherubs wear of fpreading gold ; 
 Let all from thence thy glories fee ! 
 Oh rife, and let thy chofen free ! 
 
 Shew the glad tribes, throughout the land, 
 
 The deeds, accomplifh'd by thy hand ; 
 
 How fear'd thy pow'r ; how fam'd thy might ; 
 
 Thy fword, how terrible in fight ! 
 
 Stir up thy flrength, that every foe 
 
 Our God may own his terrors know. 
 
 Tho' captives now, in chains we mourn, 
 Speak thou, and haften our return ; 
 With looks of kindefl pity fhine, 
 And chear each foul, with rays divine, 
 Thy fmiles mall thus our grief deflroy, 
 And ev'ry heart mall flame with joy. 
 
 Thou God ! that do'ft the battle fway, 
 When wil't thou turn thy wrath away ! 
 
 O i How
 
 ioo Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 How long the wretches fighs difbwn, 
 In vain afcending to thy throne ; 
 Whole woe a bitter cup (applies, 
 FilPd from the fountain of their eyes ! 
 
 Our arm too weak to quell their pride, 
 The nations round our fword deride ; 
 Scoff at the foe they firft fubdue ; 
 At once their fcorn, and conquefl too ; 
 Oh, guard us with thy power divine ! 
 What flrength, whoie arm can fave but thine 
 
 The vine, too feeble now to ftand, 
 
 Was firft tranfplanted by thy hand ; 
 
 From &gyft brought, her lofty head 
 
 Had room to grow ; and ftrength to fpread \ 
 
 The heathen banifh'd, to allow 
 
 More freedom to each loaded bough. 
 
 By her the vales were cooler made ; 
 From her the mountains took their ihade $ 
 The cedars, mingling with the sky, 
 Nor look'd fo fair ; nor grew fo high ; 
 Whole branches filPd each fertile plain, 
 From Trisy to the Tyr// Biain. 
 
 Why
 
 Sacred HT MRS. 101 
 
 Why does thy wrath the fence deface, 
 That did her beauties guard and grace ; 
 Let each rude foe by force invade 
 Her clutters, and her cooling fhade ! 
 By each invader's hand o'er-power'd ; 
 Her top cut down, her root devoured. 
 
 Oh, view from heaven the bleeding tree, 
 Water'd fb long, and nurs'd by thee ; 
 Behold the place, great God, once more, 
 (Tho' now with ruins cover'd o'er,) 
 Where, nouriih'd by thy tender care, 
 It mot fo high j and fpread fo fair. 
 
 Oh, fill our Ions with all thy might ; 
 Give 'em thy arm, and ftrength in fight ; 
 So we, thy refcu'd tribes, (hall fing 
 The triumphs of our matchlefs King. 
 The God, that haft our legions led ; 
 In battle, whom the mighty dread. 
 
 " The following Pfalm, being efteem'd by 
 " Mr. 'Dennis, and the beft criticks and judges, 
 " the moft noble, the moft exalted and lofty in 
 P the whole book ; (the wide creation, ever* 
 
 " the
 
 IPX Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 u the infenfible and inanimate parts of it, being 
 * s call'd upon to celebrate the praifes of the iii- 
 " preme being) we have had feveral beautiful 
 <c imitations of it, given us by the mod eminent 
 " hands, The Earl of Rofcommon^ Mr. Milton, 
 " Sir R. Blackmore, Mr. Norris, and many 
 * others, having oblig'd the world with a tranf- 
 " lation of it, or a paraphrafe. I ought to ask 
 " the reader's pardon, who has read the Pfalm 
 " in the works of thofe learned authors, for 
 tc prefuming to infert here an imitation of it ; 
 " which, tho' publifh'd Ibme time ago, in a 
 " larger * work of mine, will not, I hope, be 
 " judg'd improper to be inferted in this ver* 
 " fion. 
 
 * Laft Judgment, B. 5. 
 
 PSALM CXLVIIL 
 
 After the manner of Milton,, from 
 the Fifth Book of the La/I Judg- 
 ment. 
 
 JOIN then in praifes all, whoe'er receive 
 From him your life ! of life each pleafmg joy ; 
 Ye angels firft, who clad in pureft rays, 
 Day without night enclofe his (acred throne, 
 Rejoicing ; thro* the wide creation fair, 
 
 Above
 
 .Sacred HYMNS. 103 
 
 Above each creature elfe in fongs proclaim 
 
 His bounty, whence ye drew your birth, and 
 
 (fame, 
 
 And brightuefs, rivalPd thro' the ample sky 
 By nothing brighter ! ye, the firfl: in power, 
 Extol his love ; and be the firfl in praife ! 
 Ye next, who o'er this earth, as he ordains, 
 Dominion hold, and view, by his command, 
 Your fubjedb, whatfoever fwims or flies, 
 Or treads its ipacious furface, never ceafe 
 (To men his bounty varying eve and mom) 
 In due return, to vary his high praife ! 
 Break filence, all ye living fires, tho' mute, 
 Yet find a voice for praife, as on ye roll, 
 Light after light, unnumber'd thro' the sky, 
 Thou loudefl, whofe great orb furpafles all, 
 In flame and matchlefs glory, from whofe eye 
 Darting effulgence round, each lefier ftar 
 Its circle fills, and, moving near thy beams, 
 Drinks deep of light, from thy o'erflowing urn. 
 And thou, fair regent of the night, whole ray 
 Divides the darknefs from thy filver throne, 
 Rifing, or when thy orb declines, proclaim 
 His glory, who adorns, with milder flame, 
 
 Thy
 
 104 Sacred HTMNS. 
 
 Thy chariot, circled with a thoufand fires, 
 Waiting thy flight attendant, from the eafl 
 
 To where thy beams are quench'd in wefteni 
 
 (waves. 
 
 Ye vapours, as ye upward climb, exhaPd 
 By the fun's thirfty orb, where-e'er ye fly^ 
 Painted or dusk, both as ye rife and fall, 
 Exalt him, as to rain, or hail, or mow 
 Condens'd, in downy flakes, or rattling fhowerS, 
 Ye now defcend, till, melting, up the sky 
 Ye fbar in exhalations ; breathe his praife, 
 Ye winds, from whatfoever climes ye blow, 
 Peaceful or loud, brufhing the earth or main, 
 Now fmooth its furface, till, by his command. 
 Your fury drives along the roaring wave, 
 And from the deep abyfs beneath up- heaves 
 The fearful inundation to the pole. 
 
 Ye flowers that clothe the earth, and in your 
 
 (bloom, 
 
 Vary her face with every pleafmg hue, 
 Be mindful of his bounteous hand, who gave 
 Your beauty and your odours ; nor deny, 
 
 As from your op'ning buds you throw each 
 
 (morn 
 
 Sweet
 
 Sacred HTMNS. icy 
 
 Sweet incenfe, with your fweets to join his' praife ; 
 Nor can you filence keep, ye filver ftreams, 
 Wand'ring thro' flow'ry banks along each vale 
 
 To pay him worlhip, from whofe heaven, your 
 
 (urns 
 Are flill replenifh'd, weeping oft in fhowers 
 
 To fill your empty channels \ as ye glide 
 In fofter rills, or roll thro' wider ihoars, 
 Both as ye glide, and as ye roll, proclaim 
 ,His praife, and bear it on each grateful wave. 
 His glory, as ye part the burfting sky, 
 Ye tempefts celebrate, whether the main 
 Ye open, and its channels deep below 
 Reveal to human eye ; or, as ye rage, 
 Drive down the foreftfrom the mountain's brow ; 
 Where-e'er your fury lives, at his command 
 Be filent fave where filence yields to praife. 
 Nor can ye want wherewith to fpeak his fame, 
 Ye thunders, dreadful wherefoe'er ye found ; 
 Whether ye rock the heavens, or, as ye roll 
 In ecchoing vollies, bid the earth defpair ; 
 Yet trembling when he fpeaks, be calm, and own 
 His voice the louder ! Nor can ye refrain 
 From adoration, and obedience due, 
 
 Ye mountains, lifting up your lofty brow 
 
 P Neareft
 
 106 Sacred HTM NS, 
 
 Nearefl to heaven ; whatever load ye bear, 
 Cedar, or branching oak, or fhading pine, 
 Bend low your heads ; in fign of worlhip bend 
 To your creator ; who, above the vales 
 Spread deep beneath, rears high your tops to 
 
 (yield 
 
 A lengthen'd fhade to t:ool the plains below. 
 Nor thou, who vifit'ft firft the early ray 
 Shot from the eaft, and waking with the dawn, 
 If yet upon thy grafly bed, or bore 
 Aloft upon the wing, thro' fields of air, 
 Oh, be not laft in praife ; but in thy flight, 
 Up the fair roads of heaven, or down the sky, 
 Sinking or rifing, where thy voice refounds, 
 Oh, make each region iweet with grateful layes. 
 
 How wond'rous (Lord) are all thy works, how 
 
 (great? 
 
 Thyfelf how great and wond'rous then, to view 
 Each by thy breath created, and faftain'd, 
 Confeffing each thy Godhead, which is leen 
 And vifible, not without tranfport feen, 
 In whatfoe'er the earth, and fea, and air, 
 Surrounding both, enclofeth in its arms. 
 
 THE
 
 ( 107 ) 
 
 THE 
 
 AGONY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 MESSIAH. 
 
 A N 
 
 ODE. 
 
 ITH every fad and folemn drain, 
 Awaking pity mix'd with pain, 
 Spirit divine, do thbu infpire, 
 Each lay of the celeftial lyre ! 
 
 Each mournful note felect to fing 
 Man's Saviour, heaven's eternal King, 
 Beneath the night's cold fhadow fpread, 
 And number'd almoft with the dead, 
 
 P -L See
 
 io8 The Agony of the MESSIAH. 
 
 See him, who rais'd the world's wide frame, 
 Who gave to every flar a name, 
 Who lent the fun its golden fire, 
 Sunk down, and ready to expire. 
 
 Throw wide thy heaven, great God, and view 
 Thy Son fuftain the fmner's due ; 
 Who fighs for man's offence alone, 
 And dies for guilt, tho' not his own. 
 
 Thrice on the ground the Saviour falls ; 
 Thrice on his angry Father calls ; 
 As oft his ardent wiihes pray, 
 The fearful cup might pals away ! 
 
 On the dire vial long he gaz'd, 
 He faw it red, and favv amaz'd ; 
 Does the flrong potion from him throw, 
 All guilt above ; all wrath below. 
 
 Again the' cup his hand applies ; 
 His lip again the cup denies ; 
 Since each fad drop its brims confine 
 Sparkles and burns with wrath divine. 
 
 The
 
 An O D E. 109 
 
 The lovveft dregs thereof he knew 
 He muft or drink, or not be true ; 
 Then does the book of fate unfold, 
 And fighs to read that hour foretold. 
 
 Each page he well cou'd underftand, 
 'Twas wrote by heaven's unerring hand, 
 The leaf where his fad fentence flood, 
 With fleel engrav'd ; and fign'd with blood. 
 
 At the dire view, what ilreams arife, 
 Flow now no longer from his eyes ; 
 While every wide and weeping pore 
 Diflills in drops of hallow'd gore. 
 
 . 'Tis for weak man, whofe bofbm fears, 
 To feek a foft relief from tears ; 
 But, when the world's great Lord complains, 
 His forrows fpeak from gufhing veins ; 
 
 Oh, hafte my foul, and bear a part, 
 In that remorfe, which chills his heart. 
 For thee his eye prepares thofe fhowers ^ 
 That figh for rhee his bofom pours ! 
 
 Thy
 
 no The sfgony of the MESSIAH, 
 
 Thy guilr, in mercy to attone, 
 Draws from his bread that bitter groan 
 Opens his fad and facred veins ; 
 In death anon to end his pains. 
 
 See where he leans his penfive head, 
 The tree his fhade ! the turf his bed ; 
 Thro' the dark gloom his woes refound j 
 Breath'd from his foul in flghs around. 
 
 Oh, can'ft thou view thy Saviour lie, 
 Anxious his heart, and fad his eye ; 
 Nor yet'avenge that guilr, which gave 
 The pious furl 'rer to the grave > 
 
 No more condemn the fpear, which dy'cl 
 Its point beneath his wounded fide ; 
 'Tvvas not the piercing nails, but thee 
 Which fix'd him to the bleeding tree. 
 
 As now in fadnefs, all alone, 
 He drives to view his Father's throne, 
 His griefs augment amaz'd to find 
 His Parent, and his God unkind \ 
 
 A cloud
 
 An O D E. 
 
 A cloud, array'd with fearful light, 
 Forbids him to approach his fight ; 
 His heaven all hid with meteors dire ; 
 Lightning his arm , his vifage fire. 
 
 Amidft the worlds his voice had rais'd, 
 Which once his Godhead own'd and praisM 
 No heart a grateful figh fupplies, 
 To calm his forrow, as he dies. 
 
 A garden now the mourner chole, 
 Beneath whofe made to meet his woes ; 
 Remov'd far off from human fight, 
 The hour - the dreadful dead of night, 
 
 Here to his fad prefaging eyes, 
 
 Dark fcenes of future fate arife ! 
 
 While to his boding mind appear 
 
 The fcourge, the crown ; the reed, the fpear. 
 
 With wrath his Father's brow all red, 
 With night the darkened heavens o'erfpread, 
 Blue lightnings fcorching as they fly, 
 And thunders rending half the sky ! 
 
 Even
 
 Even now his bread begins to feel 
 The wounds infli&ed by the fteel ; 
 In his fad thought already worn, 
 The mocking robe, and cruel thorn. 
 
 Each way he turns his eye, to find 
 Relief, he meets no object kind ; 
 Nor heaven above, nor earth below, 
 Vile man his judge ; and God his foe ; 
 
 Oh, bid thofe guardian trains defcend, 
 Which did thy royal birth attend ; 
 And fhew'd each wond'ring fage the way 
 To find thy Godhead, wrapp'd in clay ! 
 
 Some cordial, lure, their hand will bring ; 
 To calm his woes ; and raife their King ; 
 His bofom flruggling now beneath 
 The wrath of God ; and dread of death. 
 
 Oh, throw your friendly wings between, 
 Let not his Father's brow be feen ! 
 But {hut, from his aftonifli'd eye, 
 The terrors ifiuing from the sky. 
 
 Drive
 
 An ODE. 113 
 
 Drive far th' infernal hoft away, 
 That flrive the Saviour to difmay ; 
 In ev'ry dreadful form appear 
 To lhake his heart, with ev'ry fear. 
 
 Even he, who form'd each orb on high, 
 Kindled each flar above the sky, 
 Beneath the night's fad Iblemn fhade 
 Thofe light'nfngs fears, himfelf had made. 
 
 But oh, to footh the fufFerer's pain, 
 Each art, your pity tries, is vain, 
 Man's guilt he bore ; and now muft bend 
 Beneath thofe fears, which guilt attend. 
 
 That cup, his eyes with horror view, 
 He now muft tafte, and empty too ; 
 Whofe draught, prepared by wrath divine, 
 Too loon, great victim, mud be thine. 
 
 But the dire fate his mercy chofe, 
 Wherewith to end all human woes, 
 To his fad mind now nearer brought, 
 He drives to banifh from his thought. 
 
 C Vet,
 
 The Agony of the MESSIAH. 
 
 Yer, oh ! that ileep his bofom fl^es, 
 Which clos'd, too foon, his followers eyes, 
 Whofe boafted love had not a power 
 To watch, the Jaft fad parting hour. 
 
 Beneath the balmy chains of reft, 
 Each forrow dies within their bread ; 
 Each flumb'ring, while their Lord Mains 
 Such mighty woes ; and matchlefs pains. 
 
 But, fore, that God, whole fmiling brow 
 Chcars the wide world, will aid him now ; 
 Nor he, who Turners hears, defpife 
 His forrow, who for fmners dies ; 
 
 In mercy now, he mud fuftain 
 The part'ner of his fame and reign ; 
 Who fill'd fo late his royal throne, 
 Their arm alike ; their Godhead one. 
 
 But fate forbids which has decreed 
 
 That heart muft burft ; thofe veins muft blee4 j 
 
 Thofc hands and feet be purpled o'er, 
 
 With facred ftreams of hallo w'd gore. . 
 
 Ye
 
 An ODE. 
 
 Ye angels, all your fuccour bring ! 
 Ye great arch-angels, guard your King ! 
 Hear him, in fighs, heaven's pity crave, 
 Oh hafte, and fhatch him from a grave ; 
 
 Can ye be blefs'd, within your bow'rs, 
 While fuch deep groans his bofbm pours 
 When floods of tears his cheeks bedew, 
 And kindly flied, perhaps, for you ? 
 
 To you, by heaven's decree, belong 
 The weak to lift, and damp the flrong, 
 To raife the low and humbled knee, 
 And fet the pious captive free ; 
 
 Oh, kindly cair your wings dbove 
 The King of peace ; and Lord of love. 
 Relieve his bofom's inmoft fmart, 
 And drive each fbrrow from his heart, 
 
 For fee! whate'er the fates of old, 
 Or of his life, or doom, foretold ; 
 Each woe, and all his bitter pains, 
 In one fad hour his foul fuftains. 
 
 Death
 
 n6 The Agony of the MESSIAH, 
 
 Death now, in all its pomp, appears, 
 Whofe fling he feels, while yet he fears ; 
 Sees wav'd on high his brandiih'd dart, 
 The dread whereof exceeds the fmart. 
 
 Now hell's dark caves are feen below, 
 Which his fad foul anon muft know ; 
 Amaz'd, he views and fears to tread 
 The paths that lead him to the dead, 
 
 Each horror, now, his eye invades ! 
 Dire fpe&res, and unbodied ihades ; 
 The tort'ring lain ; the -fiery chains 
 Each guilty wretch, beneath, fuftains. 
 
 While in fad numbers, or alone, 
 Defpairing ghofts in anguilh groan ; 
 For death with bitter accents cry, 
 Deny'd the wretched power to die. 
 
 Aftonifh'd at the dreadful fight. 
 Hell's manfions, and the realms of night, 
 His eye to heaven once more he turns, 
 While thus he faes , and thus he mourns. 
 
 Parent
 
 An O D E, 117 
 
 Parent of good, who do'ft beftovv, 
 Thy gifts on all who dwell below, 
 Am I, abandon'd to defpair, 
 The only wretch, that wants thy care > 
 
 Does thy indulgent bounty give, 
 
 The meaneft worm, to breathe and live, 
 
 To one alone, ' wilt thou deny 
 
 Thy (miles, and muft that one be I ? 
 
 So deep my plaints, my fighs fo loud, 
 Muft, fare, arrive, and reach that cloud, 
 Where, to thy throne, the mourner bends, 
 And where the wretch's woe afcends ! 
 
 Oh, yet afTume thofe looks of lo.ve, 
 Which chear and charm the blels'd above ; 
 Throw wide thy arms ; thy fmiles reveal, 
 And view my griefs, tho' not to heal ! 
 
 - Who elfe a cordial mall infufe 
 Into my foul, if thou refufe ? 
 To whom fhould my fad ilghs afpire, 
 But to my Friend, my God, my Sire ? 
 
 Where
 
 n8 The Agony of //^MESSIAH, 
 
 Where elfe mall I direct my moan ; 
 Where bend, but to a Father's throne ; 
 Send up my foul, and weeping eyes, 
 But to thy fear, and facred skies ? 
 
 The broken hearr, and bending knee, 
 Ne'er fu'd before in vain to thee ; 
 Attending others, let not mine 
 Bow Jefs regarded at thy flirine ! 
 
 Oh, mould thy wrath my pains prolong,' 
 The bitter cup might prove too flrong \ 
 And with a Father's anger fraught, 
 My foul refufe the fearful draught. 
 
 Calm then thy rage ; and ceafe to try 
 What heights my virtue yet may fly ! 
 Since, left unguarded by thy fhield, 
 The God may bear, the man may yield. 
 
 Perhaps, my frailty may refrain, 
 To bear a greater weight of pain ; 
 And I repent I left the sky, 
 For man's offence too weak to die. 
 
 See
 
 An. ODE. 119 
 
 See the wide world, the nations all, 
 Who me, their God and Saviour, call, 
 Throw each their guilt upon my head, 
 The living now, and now the dead! 
 
 I bleed, to calm thy heavenly rage, 
 For fins, of every clime, and age ! 
 For thofe who blefs my love, or fcorn ; 
 For ages pad, and man unborn, 
 
 Ev'n thofe, who now my fate decree, 
 Prepare the fcourge, and raife the tree, 
 If e'er they merit life, muft live, 
 HeaFd by thofe wounds, they joy to give ! 
 
 Thofe myftick drops their fury drains, 
 From my fad heart, and flowing veins, 
 Have all a voice and mud implore 
 Mercy for thofe who fhed my gore ! 
 
 Yet grant, each woe my foul could bear, 
 Thou could'fi: inflid:, or I can fear, 
 From thee my fufFrings to fuftain, 
 Gives my fwell'd heart a deeper pain. 
 
 With
 
 ixo The jjgony of the MESSIAH. 
 
 With more remorfe, my fate I read, 
 Doom'd by a Father's voice to bleed ; 
 Which makes the cup, thy wrath does fill, 
 More dreadful, and more bitter (till. 
 
 What then, my heart, haft thou to fear, 
 Or from the crofs, or bloody fpear ; 
 Thou hafl a Father's anger bore, 
 And heaven and earth can add no more. 
 
 Tho' high they raife the curfed tree, 
 Prepare the thorn, the fcourge decree, 
 Mix in my draught the naufeous gall, 
 In his dire frown I meet them all. 
 
 Who then wou'd to my foul impart , 
 A pain, beyond its prefent frnart, 
 All hell's defpair muft add to mine, 
 And lend a weight to wrath divine. 
 
 Oh, why did'ft thou fo foon approve 
 The firft kind offers of my love, 
 When trembling for the (inner, I 
 Tho' suiltlefs, chofe myfelf to die. 
 
 Could
 
 O D E, 
 
 Could none befide thy juftice charm, 
 Thy fmiles engage, and wrath difarm ; 
 Could earth no other vidim bring, 
 To calm her God, but me her King > 
 
 No flocks did Ifrael's mountains breed, 
 No herds along her vallies feed ? 
 Cou'd they no facrifice fupply ; 
 Or liv'd there none to bleed, but I > 
 
 Am I to heaven more dear, than all 
 Each verdant field, and fatt'ning flail 
 Send to its temples, which expire, 
 To feed the rich, and hallow'd fire ? 
 
 Oh, can'fl thou hear my fighs, while I, 
 My God, my God, defpairing cry > 
 Nor, in that hour of anguifh find, 
 Thy wrath appeas'd, and Godhead kind? 
 
 Haft thou another Son to love, 
 Have I a parent elfe above ; 
 To whom in tears I may difclole, 
 The weight and number of my woes ? 
 
 Oh,
 
 The jlgony of the ME s s i A H. 
 
 Oh, let the Father's love appear, 
 Removing what I feel or fear ; 
 Death's dire approach, the foes defign ; 
 And, by thy fmiles, oh, prove me thine. 
 
 To view thee pleas'd, that hour I bleed, 
 Will every other pang exceed ! 
 Thy fmiles, as ndw I die, confound 
 My heart, above each other wound. 
 
 It is thy frown, great God, I fear, 
 Above the crofs, and Roman fpear ; 
 While that I dread, the foe, in vain, 
 Wou'd fill my foul with greater pain ! 
 
 But down ye fighs ! no more ye eyes 
 Send your fad wailings to the skies ! 
 For the world's guilt I vow'd this gore, 
 And time mud finifh what I fwore. 
 
 'Tisnot, alas, for man or me, 
 To break or alter heaven's decree j 
 His heavy debt, on me, is lay'd, 
 And fate one hour will fee it pay'd. 
 
 That
 
 An O D E. 
 
 That dreadful hour is come at laft ; 
 But, oh, my Soul, it is not pad ; 
 Tho' now begun, what woes attend 
 My boding heart, before its end > 
 
 But read yon dire decree on high ; 
 Mankind is loft, or thou muft die : 
 And let no doubt thy breaft come near, 
 Which bids thee either faint or fear. 
 
 Be calm and ftedfaft then, my heart, 
 I chufe to acl: the bitter part ! 
 Bending, to break the tyrant's power ; 
 Dying, that death may be no more ; 
 
 That lhaft, which bears me to the dead, 
 Shall bruife the haughty vidor's head ; 
 Mankind, from every terror freed, 
 While death lies bleeding, as I bleed. 
 
 Frail life I then no more defire ; 
 Let man be blefs'd ! tho' I expire ! 
 My foul, with joy, I now refign ! 
 Take me - this moment I am thine. 
 
 If
 
 1X4- The j4gony of the MESSIAH. 
 
 If thou ha'ft yet a woe in ftore, 
 This wretched bofom has not bore, 
 From heaven, the fooner it defcends, 
 The fooner too the fiifPriug ends ; 
 
 He fpoke ! while heaven does now impart, 
 New courage to his anxious heart, 
 Strengthen'd with more than human power, 
 Againft the great appointed hour. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 E R R A 7" A 
 
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 Weeks Preparation, 1 2ma. 
 
 Wall's Hiftory of Infant Baptifm, 2 Vols. 8w. 
 
 Defence of his Hiftory, againft the Reflections of Mr. Gale, <trc. 8v.' 
 
 irilkjns's Principles and Duties of Natural Religion, 8t/o. 
 
 Winftanley's Hiftorical Rarities and curious Observations, 8*- 
 
 Wychcrley's Plays, 2 Vols. 1 zmo. 
 
 Meed's Epiftles Odes, <^c. with aTranflatlon of Longirat: on the Sublime, 8v*
 
 
 (ft* 

 
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