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Around my soul the wicked throng,
The treach'rous lips, the lying tongue :
Thus the Reilcemer's plaints arose,
Amidst the malice of his foes.

Their words a flaming torrent flow,
But causcless is the hate they show:
The scribe and priest their rage impart,
But love and pity melt his heart.
Still for his foes bis pray’rs arise,
" Father, forgive;" the Saviour cries :
Though for his grace with wrath they burn,
And batred for his love return.

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PSALM CX.
ALL hail! victorious Lord,
At God's right hand above;
Triumphant o'er thy foes !
Triumphant in thy love!
To thee our joyful songs we bring,
To thee we bow, all-conq'ring King !

O haste, victorious Prince,
That happy glorious day,
When souls, like drops of dew,

Shall own thy gentle sway:
O may it bless our longing eyes,
And bear our shouts beyond the skies,

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All hail ! exalted Priest !
To thee our all we give,
Enthron'd above the skies,
All homage to receive!
There deign in our behalf to plead,
There, Lord, for ever intercede.

PSALM CXI.
O PRAISE th' eternal King,

My heart shall join the song,
Where friends their private off'rings bring,

Or where his courts they throng.
In all his works and ways

His greatness strikes the sight,
There all his saints his wonders trace,

With ever fresh delight.
But, O! what wonders meet,
And in redemption shine !
There all bis honors are complete,

His glories are divine !
His righteousness appears,

And, stands for ever sure,
'Tis everlasting as his years,
And shall his church secure.

PSALM CXII.
BLEST is the man whose soft'ning beart

Feels all another's pain;
To whom the supplicating eye,

Was never rais'd in vain :

Whose breast expands with gen'rous warmth,

A stranger's woes to feal;
And bleeds in pity o'er the wound

He wants the pow'r to heal.
He spreads his kind supporting arms

To ev'ry child of grief :
His secret bounty largely flows,

And brings unask'd relief.
To gentle offices of love

His feet are never slow :
He views, through mercy's melting eye,

A brother in a foe.
To him protection shall be shown,

And mercy from above
Descend on those, who thus fulfill

The perfect law of love.

PSALM CXIII.

PRAISE ye the Lord : his praise record,
Ye servants of th' eternal Lord :
Jehovah's pow'r and grace proclaim,
With endless honors on his name!
Jesus, the name which angels bless,
In strains of noblest praise confess
Ye saints, your rising Lord adore,
Through time, till time shall be no more.

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His name your highest songs should raise,
Where'er ihe sun its beams displays;
Where all his morning glories rise,
Or where he sinks in western skies.
Far rais'd o'er all created things,
He sits : th' eternal King of kings!
And spreads bis glory and his fame
Above the beav'n's expanded frame.

PSALM CXIV.
WHEN Israel's tribes, in firm array,
From Egypt's coasts pursue their way,.

Where a strange tongue they heard;
Jehovah, majesty divine !
In Judah bade his presence shine,

And Israel own'd their Lord.
The ocean saw ; the ocean fled;
And Jordan backward to its head

Roll'd its retorted flood :
Like rams the lofty mountains leap;
And lesser hills, like feebler sheep,

In playful dancings stood.
What pow'r dismay'd, when ocean fled ?
Why Jordan backward to thy head

Roll thy retorted flood ? Why like the rams, ye mountains Icap ? Or lesser bills, as feebler sheep?

They own the present God!

Tremble, thou earth, before the Lord;
His presence, in his church ador'd,

Sball save his chosen race :
Forth from the flint the fountains broke,
At his command :--and Christ our rock

Pours endless streams of grace!

PSALM CXV. HIS saints Jebovah's bounty share, The objects of his constant care : His blessing o'er his church shall rest, Pour'd on the people and the priest. The men wbo fear his name shall know The blessings which his hands bestow : In him the strong their safety find, The refuge of the feeblest mind. His saints, who taste his richest grace, In faith, and hope, and joy increase : Their seed shall join the sacred mirth, Bless'd of the Lord of heav'n and earth. The heav'n of heav'ns expanded high Is his—his throne of majesty! The eartb he gives, with bounties stor’d, To mai-creation's lower lord. What songs can rise, with grateful breath, In silence, or the shades of death? But God our sleeping dust shall raisc, 1, To speak his everlasting praise!"

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