Shall hymns of joy to God, our King, Be sung by slaves in foreign lands? When I of thee forgetful prove, The speaking strings with ari to move ! 6 If I to mention thee forbear, Eternal silence seize my tongue ; Till thy deliv'rance is my song. In thy own city's fatal day, « And with the ground quite level lay." & Proud Babel's daughter, doom'd to be Of grief and woe the wretched prey; The wrongs thou laid'st on us repay: And deaf to all the parents' moans, PSALM CXXXVIII. 1 , , Thy Before the gods with joy I'll sing, And bless thy holy Name, And, with thy love inspir'd, O’er all thy works admir'd. When I to thee did cry; Didst in ward strength supply. Thy Name with praise pursue, That all thy works are true. With cheerful songs shall bless ; Thy awful power confess. WITH my whole heart, my God and King, 1,2 TM 6 For God, although enthron'd on high, Does thence the poor respect; The proud far off his scornful eye Beholds with just neglect. He shall my foes disarm, And keep me safe from harm. Shall fix my happy state ; PSALM CXXXIX. My rising up and lying down ; Known long before conceived by me. My public haunts and private ways; 4 Thou know'st what tis my lips would vent, My yet unutter'd words' intent. 5 Surrounded by thy pow'r I stand ; On every side I find thy hand : 6 O skill for human reach too bigh! Too dazzling bright for mortal eye! 7 O could I so perfidious be, To think of once deserting thee, Or whither from thy presence run? 8 If up to heav'n I take my flight, Tis there thou dwell'st, enthron'd in light; Tis there Almighty vengeance reigns. 9 If Ithe morning's wings could gain, And fy beyond the western main, 10 Thy swifter wings would first arrive, And there arrest thy fugitive, Beneath the sable wings of night; Would kindle darkness into day, 12 The veil of night is no disguise, No screen from thy ali-searching eyes ; Through midnight shades thou findöst the way, As in the blazing noon of day. My reins, and ev'ry vital part ; By thee was cover'd in the womb. A work of such a curious frame ; My soul with grateful joy must own. 15. Thine eyes my substance did survey, While yet a lifeless mass it lay, Ere from its dark enclosure brought. 16 Thou didst the shapeless embryo see, Its parts were register'd by thee ; Form'd by the model of thy book. 17 Let me acknowledge too, O God, That since this maze of life I trod, The power of numbers to recount. 18 Far sooner could I reckon o'er The sands upon the ocean's shore ; I find the account but new begun. Depart from me, ye men of blood, 20 Whose tongues heav'n's Majesty profane, And take the Almighty's Name in vain. 21 Lord, hate not I their impious crew, Who thee with enmity pursue? When reprobates thy laws transgress! 22 Who practise enmity to thee Shall utmost hatred have from me ; As if they were my foes profest. 23, 24 Search, try, O God, my thoughts and hearg If mischief lurk in any part ; I PSALM CXL. R PR t 2 And from the sons of violence, On open mischief bent. 3 Their sland'ring tongue the serpent's sting In sharpness does exceed ; And adder's venom breed. Nor leave my soul forlorn, Who have my ruin sworn. And spread their wily net; I find my steps beset. Thou art my God, I said ; That calls to thee for aid. Kind succour did convey, In battle's doubtful day; To answer their desire ; To bolder crimes aspire. Of their injustice mourn; Upon themselves return. Its sacrifice become ; Their own untimely tomb. 11 Though slander's breath may raise a storyo. It quickly will decay; That bears themselves away. And speedy succour give : PSALM CXLI. O haste to my relief; And with accustom'd pity hear The accents of my grief. Like morning incense rise ; Of ev'ning sacrifice. 3 From hasty language curb my tongue, And let a constant guard With wary silence barr'd. 4 From wicked men's designs and deeds My heart and hands restrain; Of their unrighteous gain. And I shall think them kind ; I their reproof shall find ; I shall for them address, Like me, to sore distress. I to their chiefs appeal, When I had pow'r to kill. Our scatter'd ruins lie The sever'd splinters fly. My supplicating eyes, Whose trust on thee relies, That wicked hands have laid ; PSALM CXLII. My wrongs before him laid. |