The Psalms of David Part 54

2 My feet shall never slide And fall in fatal snares, Since G.o.d, my guard and guide, Defends me from my fears: Those wakeful eyes That never sleep Shall Israel keep When dangers rise.

3 No burning heats by day, Nor blasts of evening air, Shall take my health away, If G.o.d be with me there.

Thou art my sun, And thou my shade, To guard my head By night or noon.

4 Hast thou not given thy word To save my soul from death?

And I can trust my Lord To keep my mortal breath; I'll go and come, Nor fear to die, Till from on high Thou call me home.

Psalm 122:1.

Going to church.

1 How did my heart rejoice to hear My friends devoutly say, "In Zion let us all appear, "And keep the solemn day!"

2 I love her gates, I love the road: The church adorn'd with grace Stands like a palace built for G.o.d, To shew his milder face.

3 Up to her courts with joys unknown The holy tribes repair; The Son of David holds his throne, And sits in judgment there.

4 He hears our praises and complaints; And while his awful voice Divides the sinners from the saints, We tremble and rejoice.

5 Peace be within this sacred place, And joy a constant guest!

With holy gifts, and heavenly grace Be her attendants blest!

6 My soul shall pray for Zion still, While life or breath remains; There my best friends, my kindred dwell, There G.o.d my Saviour reigns.

Psalm 122:2. Proper Tune.

Going to church.

1 How pleas'd and blest was I To hear the people cry, "Come, let us seek our G.o.d to-day!"

Yes, with a cheerful zeal, We haste to Zion's hill, And there our vows and honours pay.

2 Zion, thrice happy place, Adorn'd with wondrous grace, And walls of strength embrace thee round; In thee our tribes appear To pray, and praise, and hear The sacred gospel's joyful sound.

3 There David's greater Son Has fix'd his royal throne, He sits for grace and judgment there; He bids the saint be glad, He makes the sinner sad, And humble souls rejoice with fear.

4 May peace attend thy gate, And joy within thee wait To bless the soul of every guest!

The man that seeks thy peace, And wishes thine increase, A thousand blessings on him rest!

5 My tongue repeats her vows "Peace to this sacred house!"

For there my friends and kindred dwell; And since my glorious G.o.d Makes thee his blest abode, My soul shall ever love thee well.

Repeat the fourth stanza to complete the Tune.

Psalm 123.

Pleading with submission.

1 O thou whose grace and justice reign Enthron'd above the skies, To thee our hearts would tell their pain, To thee we lift our eyes.

2 As Servants watch their master's hand, And fear the angry stroke; Or maids before their mistress stand, And wait a peaceful look;

3 So for our sins we justly feel Thy discipline, O G.o.d; Yet wait the gracious moment still, Till thou remove thy rod.

4 Those that in wealth and pleasure live Our daily groans deride, And thy delays of mercy give Fresh courage to their pride.

5 Our foes insult us, but our hope In thy compa.s.sion lies; This thought shall bear our spirits up, That G.o.d will not despise.

Psalm 124.

A song for the fifth of November.

1 Had not the Lord, may Israel say, Had not the Lord maintain'd our side, When men to make our lives a prey, Rose like the swelling of the tide;

2 The swelling tide had stopt our breath, So fiercely did the waters roll, We had been swallow'd deep in death; Proud waters had o'erwhelm'd our soul.

3 We leap for joy, we shout and sing, Who just escap'd the fatal stroke; So flies the bird with cheerful wing, When once the fowler's snare is broke.

4 For ever blessed be the Lord, Who broke the fowler's cursed snare, Who sav'd us from the murdering sword, And made our lives and souls his care.

5 Our help is in Jehovah's Name, Who form'd the earth and built the skies; He that upholds that wondrous frame Guards his own church with watchful eyes.

Psalm 125:1. C. M.

The saint's trial and safely.

1 Unshaken as the sacred hill, And firm as mountains be, Firm as a rock the soul shall rest That leans, O Lord, on thee.

2 Not walls nor hills could guard so well Old Salem's happy ground, As those eternal arms of love That every saint surround.

3 While tyrants are a smarting scourge To drive them near to G.o.d, Divine compa.s.sion does allay The fury of the rod.

4 Deal gently, Lord, with souls sincere, And lead them safely on To the bright gates of Paradise, Where Christ their Lord is gone.

5 But if we trace those crooked ways That the old serpent drew, The wrath that drove him first to h.e.l.l Shall smite his followers too.

Psalm 125:2. S. M.

The saints' trial and safety; or, Moderated afflictions.

1 Firm and unmov'd are they That rest their souls on G.o.d; Firm as the mount where David dwelt Or where the ark abode.

2 As mountains stood to guard The city's sacred ground, So G.o.d and his almighty love Embrace his saints around.

3 What tho' the Father's rod Drop a chastising stroke, Yet, lest it wound their souls too deep, Its fury shall be broke.

4 Deal gently, Lord, with those Whose faith and pious fear, Whose hope, and love, and every grace Proclaim their hearts sincere.

5 Nor shall the tyrant's rage Too long oppress the saint; The G.o.d of Israel will support His children lest they faint.

6 But if our slavish fear Will chuse the road to h.e.l.l, We must expect our portion there Where bolder sinners dwell.