TH XLVII. PSALM XXIII. Long M. ADDISON. 2 3. 4 5 6 My noon-day walks he fhall attend, To fertile vales and dewy meads Though, in a bare and rugged way, Through devious lonely wilds I ftray, Thy bounty fhall my pains beguile, The barren wilderness fhall smile. And though the paths of death I tread, With gloomy horrors overspread, Which nature's deareft feelings move, And all the strength of virtue prove: My steadfast heart fhall fear no ill, For thou, O Lord, art with me still; Thy friendly crook fhall give me aid, And guide me thro' the dreadful fhade. XLVIII. PSALM XXIII. Com. Met. STEELE. I THE Lord, my fhepherd and my guide, Will all my wants fupply; T In fafety I fhall ftill abide 2 Amid 2 Amid the fresh and verdant meads My pasture he provides; And pained with thirft, my fteps he leads 3 If from his fold I thoughtless stray, XLIX. PSALM XXIII. Long Met. UNKNOWN. I S the good fhepherd gently leads A His wandering flocks to verdant meads, Where cooling ftreams, in fportive play, Thro' the rich landfcape wind their way. 2 So God, the guardian of my foul, Does all my erring fteps controul; When, loft in fin's perplexing maze, He leads me back to virtue's ways. 3 4 Though I fhould journey thro' the plains Thy kind paternal providence Is my fupply, and my defence; 5 And thus fhall every future day L. PSALM XXIII. Short Met. DODDRidge. I 2 3 4 5 Support in Death. EHOLD the gloomy vale, BE Which thou, my foul, must tread, Beset with terrors, fierce and pale, That leads thee to the dead. Ye pleasing scenes, adieu ! Which I fo long have known: My friends, a long farewel to you! And thou, beloved clay, Long partner of my cares, Thou canst not tread this rugged way, Thy frame it rudely tears. But fee a ray of light, With splendour all divine, Break thro' these direful realms of night, Where death and darkness reign, My God awakens day; His rod my trembling feet fuftains, His itaff defends my way. 6 Bleft Shepherd, lead me on; My foul difdains to fear; Death's gloomy phantoms all are flown, Now life's great Lord is near. PSALM LI. PSALM XXIV. Long Met. WATTS. The Pure in Heart fhall fee GOD. 2 3 4 5 2 TH HE earth is thine, Almighty Lord, It fprang from thy creating word; Its beauteous furniture is thine, In all we own the hand divine. Raised on the floods at thy command But there's a brighter world on high, He that abhors the thought of fin, Whose heart is pure, whofe hands are clean; In whom to form the foul divine, Fair piety and virtue join. This is the man of heavenly kind, By God for heavenly blifs defigned: He shall enjoy thy blissful fight, And dwell in everlasting light. LII. PSALM XXIV. Short Met. TH Heaven referved for the Pure and Good. But earth, with all its store, 3 4 5 I 2 Is but a dwelling mean and poor, To vifit this abode ? And what must be the foul's attire With truth it must be graced, Then may our hopes afpire To vifit this abode ; And this must be the foul's attire To fit it for its God. LIII. PSALM XXV. Short Met. PATRICK. A Pfalm of Penitence and virtuous Defires. L ET no event caft down Those who from evil flee, Nor disappointment shame the hope Which waits, O Lord, on thee. Thy better light renew; And aid me always to perform What thou art pleased to view. 4 Against my errors past; And as my errors I renounce, From the straight paths of truth On |