Part 7 (1/2)

Psalm 16:1. First Part. L. M.

Confession of our poverty, and saints the best company; or, Good works profit men, not G.o.d.

1 Preserve me, Lord, in time of need For succour to thy throne I flee, But have no merits there to plead; My goodness cannot reach to thee.

2 Oft have my heart and tongue confest How empty and how poor I am; My praise can never make thee blest, Nor add new glories to thy name.

3 Yet, Lord, thy saints on earth may reap Some profit by the good we do; These are the company I keep, These are the choicest friends I know.

4 Let others choose the sons of mirth To give a relish to their wine, I love the men of heavenly birth, Whose thoughts and language are divine.

Psalm 16:2. Second Part. L. M.

Christ's all-sufficiency.

1 How fast their guilt and sorrows rise Who haste to seek some idol G.o.d!

I will not taste their sacrifice, Their offerings of forbidden blood.

2 My G.o.d provides a richer cup, And n.o.bler food to live upon; He for my life has offer'd up Jesus, his best beloved Son.

3 His love is my perpetual feast; By day his counsels guide me right; And be his name for ever blest, Who gives me sweet advice by night.

4 I set him still before mine eyes; At my right hand he stands prepar'd To keep my soul from all surprise, And be my everlasting guard.

Psalm 16:3. Third Part. L. M.

Courage in death, and hope of the resurrection.

1 When G.o.d is nigh, my faith is strong, His arm is my almighty prop: Be glad, my heart; rejoice, my tongue, My dying flesh shall rest in hope.

2 Tho' in the dust I lay my head, Yet, gracious G.o.d, thou wilt not leave My soul for ever with the dead, Nor lose thy children in the grave.

3 My flesh shall thy first call obey, Shake off the dust, and rise on high; Then shalt thou lead the wondrous way, Up to thy throne above the sky.

4 There streams of endless pleasure flow; And full discoveries of thy grace (Which we but tasted here below) Spread heavenly joys thro' all the place.

Psalm 16:4. First Part. C. M.

Support and counsel from G.o.d without merit.

1 Save me, O Lord, from every foe; In thee my trust I place, Tho' all the good that I can do Can ne'er deserve thy grace.

2 Yet if my G.o.d prolong my breath The saints may profit by't; The saints, the glory of the earth, The men of my delight.

3 Let heathens to their idols haste, And wors.h.i.+p wood or stone; But my delightful lot is cast Where the true G.o.d is known.

4 His hand provides my constant food, He fills my daily cup; Much am I pleas'd with present good, But more rejoice in hope.

5 G.o.d is my portion and my joy, His counsels are my light; He gives me sweet advice by day, And gentle hints by night.

6 My soul would all her thoughts approve To his all-seeing eye; Not death, nor h.e.l.l my hope shall move, While such a friend is nigh.