Part 3 (1/2)

1 Lord, thou wilt hear me when I pray I am for ever thine: I fear before thee all the day, Nor would I dare to sin.

2 And while I rest my weary head From cares and business free, 'Tis sweet conversing on my bed With my own heart and thee.

3 I pay this evening sacrifice; And when my work is done, Great G.o.d, my faith and hope relies Upon thy grace alone.

4 Thus with my thoughts compos'd to peace I'll give mine eyes to sleep; Thy hand in safety keeps my days, And will my slumbers keep.

Psalm 5.

For the Lord's day morning.

1 Lord, in the morning thou shalt hear My voice ascending high; To thee will I direct my prayer, To thee lift up mine eye;

2 Up to the hills where Christ is gone To plead for all his saints, Presenting at his Father's throne Our songs and our complaints.

3 Thou art a G.o.d before whose sight The wicked shall not stand; Sinners shall ne'er be thy delight, Nor dwell at thy right hand.

4 But to thy house will I resort, To taste thy mercies there; I will frequent thine holy court, And wors.h.i.+p in thy fear.

5 O may thy Spirit guide my feet In ways of righteousness!

Make every path of duty straight And plain before my face.

PAUSE.

6 My watchful enemies combine To tempt my feet astray; They flatter with a base design To make my soul their prey.

7 Lord, crush the serpent in the dust, And all his plots destroy; While those that in thy mercy trust For ever shout for joy.

8 The men that love and fear thy name Shall see their hopes fulfill'd; The mighty G.o.d will compa.s.s them With favour as a s.h.i.+eld.

Psalm 6:1. C. M.

Complaint in sickness; or, diseases healed.

1 In anger, Lord, rebuke me not, Withdraw the dreadful storm; Nor let thy fury grow so hot Against a feeble worm.

2 My soul's bow'd down with heavy cares, My flesh with pain oppress'd; My couch is witness to my tears, My tears forbid my rest.

3 Sorrow and pain wear out my days; I waste the night with cries, Counting the minutes as they pa.s.s, Till the slow morning rise.

4 Shall I be still tormented more?

Mine eye consum'd with grief?

How long, my G.o.d, how long before Thine hand afford relief?

5 He hears when dust and ashes speak, He pities all our groans, He saves us for his mercy's sake And heals our broken bones.

6 The virtue of his sovereign word Restores our fainting breath; For silent graves praise not the Lord, Nor is he known in death.

Psalm 6:2. L. M.