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Yet, lest it wound their souls too deep,
Its fury shall be broke.

p 4 Deal gently, Lord, with those,
Whose faith and pious fear-
Whose hope, and love, and ev'ry grace,
Proclaim their hearts sincere.

5 Nor shall the tyrant's rage Too long oppress the saint; o The God of Israel will support His children, lest they faint.

e 6 But if our slavish fear

Will choose the road to hell,
a We must expect our portion there,
Where bolder sinners dwell.

PSALM 126. L. M. Green's. [*]
Surprising Deliverance.

1 [WHEN God restor' our captive state

Joy was our song, and grace our theme;

The grace, beyond our hope so great,
That joy appear'd a painted dream.
2 The scoffer owns thy hand, and pays
Unwilling honours to thy name;

While we, with pleasure, shout thy praise,
With cheerful notes, thy love proclaim.
3 When we review our dismal fears,
"Twas hard to think they'd vanish so;
With God we left our flowing tears,
He makes our joys like rivers flow.
4 The man that in his furrow'd field,
His scatter'd seed with sadness leaves,
Will shout to see the harvest yield
A welcome load of joyful sheaves.]

C. M. Sunday. Swanwich.

[*]

A remarkable Display of Divine Grace.
THEN God reveal'd his gracious name,
And chang'd my mournful state,

WHEN

u My rapture seem'd a pleasing dream, The grace appear'd so great.

-2 The world beheld the glorious change, And did thy hand confess;

o My tongue broke out in unknown strains, And sung surprising grace.

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d 3 "Great is the work!" my neighbours cry'd,

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And own'd thy pow'r divine;

"Great is the work!" my heart reply'd,

"And be the glory thine."

o 4 The Lord can clear the darkest skies, d Can give us day for night;

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Make drops of sacred sorrow rise
To rivers of delight.

-5 Let those, who sow in sadness, wait
'Till the fair harvest come;

They shall confess their sheaves are great,
And shout the blessings home.

--6 Though seed lie buried long in dust,
It shan't deceive their hope;

o The precious grain can neʼer be lost, For grace ensures the crop.

1

PSALM 127.. L. M. Portugal. [*]
Success and Happiness from God.

[F God succeed not, all the cost,

IF

And pains, to build the house, are lost;
If God the city will not keep,

The watchful guards as well may sleep.
2 What if you rise before the sun,
And work and toil when day is done;
Careful and sparing eat your bread,
To shun that poverty you dread;-
3 'Tis all in vain, 'till God hath blest:
He can make rich, yet give us rest;
Children and friends are blessings too,
If God our sovereign make them so.
• 4 Happy the man, to whom he sends
Obedient children, faithful friends;
How sweet our daily comforts prove,
When they are season'd with his love!

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1 [TF God to build the house deny,
The builders work in vain;

And towns without his wakeful eye,
An useless watch maintain.

2 Before the morning beams arise,
Your painful work renew;

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And, till the stars ascend the skies,

Your tiresome toil pursue.

3 Short be your sleep, and coarse your fare, In vain, till God has blest;

But if his smiles attend your care,
You shall have food and rest.

4 Nor children, relatives, nor friends,
Shall real blessings prove,
Nor all the earthly joys he sends,
If sent without his love.]

1

PSALM 128. C. M. Devizes. [*]
Family Blessings.

HAPPY man, whose soul is fill'd
With zeal and rev'rend awe!
His lips to God their honours yield,
His life adorns the law.

2 A careful providence shall stand,
And ever guard thy head;
Shall on the labours of thy hand
Its kindly blessings shed.

3 Thy wife shall be a fruitful vine;
Thy children round thy board,
Each like a plant of honour shine,
And learn to fear the Lord.

4 The Lord shall thy best hopes fulfil,
For months and years to come;
The Lord, who dwells on Zion's hill,
Shall send the blessings home.
5 This is the man, whose happy eyes
Shall see his house increase;
Shall see the sinking church arise,
Then leave the world in peace.

PSALM 129. C. M. Mear. [*]
Persecutors punished.

1 UP from my youth, may Israel say,

Have I been nurs'd in tears;

My griefs were constant as the day,
And tedious as the years.

2 Up from my youth, I bore the rage
Of all the sons of strife;

Oft they assail'd my riper age,
But not destroy'd my life.

3 Their cruel plough hath torn my flesh,
With furrows long and deep;
Hourly they vex'd my wounds afresh;
Nor let my sorrows sleep.

4 The Lord grew angry on his throne,
And with impartial eye,

Measur'd the mischiefs they had done,
And let his arrows fly.

5 How was their insolence surpris'd
To hear his thunders roll!
And all the foes of Zion seiz'd,

With horrour to the soul.

6 Thus shall the men, who hate the saints,
Be blasted from the sky;
Their glory fades, their courage faints,
And all their projects die.

7 [What though they flourish tall and fair,
They have no root beneath;

Their growth shall perish in despair,
And lie despis'd in death.

8 So corn that on the house-top stands,
No hope of harvest gives;
The reaper ne'er shall fill his hands,
Nor binder fold the sheaves.

9 It springs and withers on the place:
No traveller bestows

A word of blessings on the grass,
Nor minds it as he goes.]

PSALM 130. C. M. Abridge. Sunday. [*]

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Pardoning Grace.

UT of the deeps of long distress,
The borders of despair,

I sent my cries to seek thy grace,

My groans to move thine ear.

a 2 Great God, should thy severer eye, And thine impartial haud,

Mark and revenge, iniquity,

No mortal flesh could stand.

-3 But there are pardons with my God,
For crimes of high degree;

Thy Son has bought them with his blood,
To draw us near to thee.

4 [I wait for thy salvation, Lord,
With strong desires I wait;
My soul, invited by thy word,
Stands watching at thy gate.]

e 5 (Just as the guards that keep the night
Long for the morning skies,
Watch the first beams of breaking light,
And meet them with their eyes;-

6 So waits my soul to see thy grace,
And more intent than they,
Meet the first op'nings of thy face,
And finds a brighter day.)

• 7 Then in the Lord let Israel trust,
Let Israel seek his face;

The Lord is good as well as just,
And plenteous is his grace.

8 There's full redemption at his throne,
For sinners long enslav'd;

The great Redeemer is his son;
And Israel shall be sav'd.

a 1

L. M. Bath, Armley.

Pardoning Grace.

[*]

FROM deep distress, and troubled thoughts,
To thee, my God, I raise my cries:

If thou severely mark our faults,

No flesh can stand before thine eyes.

-2 But thou hast built thy throne of grace,
Free to dispense thy pardons there;
That sinners may approach thy face,
And hope and love, as well as fear.
e 3 As the benighted pilgrims wait,
And long and wish for breaking day,
So waits my soul before thy gate;
When will my God his face display?
• 4 My trust is fix'd upon thy word,
Nor shall I trust thy word in vain;
Let mourning souls address the Lord,
And find relief from all their pain.
g 5 Great is his love, and large his grace,
Through the redemption of his Son;
He turns our feet from sinful ways,
And pardons what our hands have done.

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