M

XXVII. The Magiftrate's pfalm.

ERCY and judgment are my fong;
And fince they both to thee belong,
My gracious God, my righteous King!
To thee my fongs and vows I'll bring.

If I am raif'd to bear the fword.
I'll take my counfel from thy word;
Thy justice and thy heav'nly grace,
Shall be the pattern of my ways,

Let wifdom all my actions guide,
And let my God with me refide;
No wicked thing fhall dwell with me,
Which may provoke thy jealoufy.

No fons of flander, rage, and ftrife,
Shall be companions of my life:
The haughty look, the heart of pride,
Within my doors fhall not abide.

[I'll fearch the land and raise the juft
To pofts of honour, wealth and truft:
The men that work thy holy will,
Shall be my friends and fav'rites ftill.]

In vain fhall finners hope to rife,
By flatt'ring or malicious lies:
And while the innocent I guard,
The bold offenders fhan't be fpar'd.

The

The impious crew (that factious band)
Shall hide their heads, or quit the land;
And all that break the public rest,
Where I have pow'r, fhall be fuppreft.

XXVIII. A pfalm for a master of a family.

OF

F juftice and of grace I fing,
And pay my God my Vows!

Thy grace and justice, heav'nly King,
Teach me to rule my house.

Now to my tent, O God, repair,
And make thy fervant wife;
I'll fuffer nothing near me there
That fhall offend thine eyes.

The man that doth his neighbour wrong,
By falfhood or by force,

The fcornful eye, the fland'rous tongue,
I'll put them from my doors.

I'll feek the faithful and the juft,

And will their help enjoy :

Thefe are the friends that I fhall truft,

The fervants I'll employ.

The wretch that deals in fly deceit,
I'll not endure a night!

The liar's tongue I'll ever hate,
And banish from my fight,

I'll purge my family around,
And make the wicked flee:
So fhall my houfe be ever found
A dwelling fit for thee.

PSALM XXIX. Praife to our Creator.

E nations round the earth rejoice

YE

Before the Lord, your fov'reign King:: Praife with cheerful heart and voice, With all your tongues his glories fing.

The Lord is God: 'tis he alone

Doth life, and breath, and being give:
We are his work and not our own;
The sheep that on his pafture live.

Enter his gates with fongs of joy,
With praises to his courts repair;
And make it your divine employ
To pay your thanks and honours there..

The Lord is good, the Lord is kind;
Great is his grace, his mercy fure :
And the whole race of men fhall find
His truth from age to age endure..

HYMNS.

HYMNS.

G

HYMN I. For Monday Morning.

OD of the morning, at whofe voice, The cheerful fun makes hafte to rife, And like a giant doth rejoice

To run his journey thro' the fkies.

From the fair chambers of the east

The circuit of his race begins,

And without weariness or reft,

Round the whole earth he flies and fhines:

Oh, like the fun, may I fulfil

Th' appointed duties of the day,
With ready mind and active will
March on and keep my heav'nly way.

[But I fhall rove and lofe the race,
If God, my fun, fhould disappear,

And

And leave me in this world's wide maze,
To follow ev'ry wand'ring ftar.]

Lord, thy commands are clean and pure,
Enlight'ning our beclouded eyes;
Thy threat'nings juft, thy promise fure,
Thy gofpel makes the fimple wife..

Grant me thy counfel for my guide,
And then receive mé to thy blifs;
All my defires and hopes befide
Are faint and cold compar'd with this.

HYMN II. A fong for morning or evening.

MY

Y God, how endless is thy love! Thy gifts are ev'ry ev'ning new And morning mercies from above Gently diftill like early dew.

;

Thou spread'ft the curtains of the night,
Great guardian of my sleeping hours
Thy fov'reign word restores the light,
Ánd quickens all my drowsy pow'rs.

I yield my pow'rs to thy command;
To thee I confecrate my days;
Perpetual bleffings from thy hand
Demand perpetual fongs of praife.

HYMN