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9 If I the morning's wings could gain,
And fly beyond the western main, 10 Thy swifter hand 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 all-searching eyes ;
As in the blazing noon of day.
My reins, and every 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,
Whilst 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 th' account but new begun.
Depart from me, ye men of blood, 20 Whose tongues heaven's Majesty profane,
And take th’ 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 heart,
If mischief lurk in any part;
PSALM CXL. 1 RESERVE me, Lord, froin crafty foes,
of treacherous intent; 2 And from the sons of violence,
on open mischief bent. 3 Their sland'ring tongue the serpent's sting
in sharpness does exceed; Between their lips the gall of asps
and adder's venom breed. 4 Preserve me, Lord, from wicked hands,
nor leave my soul forlorn, A prey to sons of violence, who have
ruin sworn. 5 The proud for me have laid their snare,
and spread their wily net; With traps and gins, where'er I move,
I find my steps beset. 6 But thus environ'd with distress,
thou art my God, I said; Lord, hear my supplicating voice,
that calls to thee for aid. 7 O Lord, the God whose saving strength
kind succour did convey, And cover'd my advent'rous head
in battle's doubtful day; 8 Permit not their unjust designs
to answer their desire; Lest they, encourag'd by success,
to bolder crimes aspire. 9 Let first their chiefs the sad effects
of their injustice mourn ; The blast of their envenom'd breath
upon themselves return. 10 Let them who kindle first the flame,
its sacrifice become; The pit they digg'd for me be made
their own untimely tomb. 11 Though slander's breath may raise a storm,
it quickly will decay: Their rage does but the torrent swell,
that bears themselves away. 12 God will assert the
man's cause, and speedy succour give: The just shall celebrate his praise, and in his presence live.
PSALM CXLI. 1 10 thee, O Lord, my cries ascend,
O haste to my relief; And with accustom'd pity hear
the accents of my grief.
2 Instead of off'rings, let my prayer
like morning incense rise; My lifted hand supply the place
of evening sacrifice. 3 From hasty language curb my tongue,
and let a constant guard
with wary silence barrd. 4 From wicked men's designs and deeds
my heart and hands restrain; Nor let me in the booty share
of their unrighteous gain. 5 Let upright men reprove my faults,
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 power to kill.
our scatter'd ruins lie
the sever'd splinters fly.
my supplicating eyes;
whose trust on thee relies. 9 Do thou preserve me from the snares,
that wicked hands have laid; Let them in their own nets be caught, while my escape is made.
PSALM CXLII. 1 10 God, with mournful voice,
in deep distress I pray'd; 2 Made him the umpire of my cause,
my wrongs before him laid. 3 Thou didst my steps direct,
when my griev'd soul despair'd; For where I thought to walk secure,
they had their traps prepar’d. 4 I look'd, but found no friend
to own me in distress; All refuge fail'd, no man vouchsaf'd
his pity or redress. 5 To God at last I pray'd;
thou, Lord, my refuge art,
My portion in the land of life,
till life itself depart. 6 Reduc'd to greatest straits,
to thee I make my moan; O save me from oppressing foes,
for me too powerful grown. 7 That I may praise thy name,
my soul from prison bring; Whilst of thy kind regard to me assembled saints shall sing.
PSALM CXLIII. 1
ORD, hear my prayer, and to my cry
thy wonted audience lend; In thy accustom'd faith and truth
a gracious answer send. 2 Nor at thy strict tribunal bring
thy servant to be try'd; For in thy sight no living man
can e'er be justified. 3 The spiteful foe pursues my life,
whose comforts all are fled; He drives me into caves as dark
as mansions of the dead. 4 My spirit therefore is o'erwhelm'd,
and sinks within my breast; My mournful heart grows desolate,
with heavy woes opprest. 5 I call to mind the days of old,
and wonders thou hast wrought; My former dangers and escapes
employ my musing thought. 6 To thee my hands in humble
prayer I fervently stretch out; My soul for thy refreshment thirsts,
like land oppress'd with drought. 7 Hear me with speed; my spirit fails;
thy face no longer hide, Lest I become forlorn, like them
that in the grave reside. 8 Thy kindness
early let me hear, whose trust on thee depends; Teach me the way where I should go;
my soul to thee ascends. 9 Do thou, O Lord, from all my foes
preserve and set me free; A safe retreat against their rage
my soul implores from thee. 10 Thou art my God, thy righteous will
instruct me to obey; Let thy good spirit lead and keep
my soul in thy right way.
11 O! for the sake of thy great name,
revive my drooping heart;
the promis'd aid impart.
foes to shame;
who does his needful aid impart,
to wield my arms with warlike art. 2 His goodness is my fort and tower,
my strong deliv'rance, and my shield; In him I trust whose matchless power
makes to my sway fierce nations yield. 3 Lord, what's in man, that thou shouldst love
of him such tender care to take ? What in his offspring could thee move
such great account of him to make ? 4 The life of man does quickly fade,
his thoughts but empty are and vain, His days are like a flying shade,
of whose short stay no signs remain. 5 In solemn state, O God, descend,
whilst heaven its lofty head inclines;
of thy approach the awful signs.
and make thy scatter'd foes retreat;
and their destruction soon complete.
thy boundless power my foes to quell,
of threatning waves, that proudly swell. Fight thou against my foreign foes,
who utter speeches false and vain; Who, though in solemn leagues they close,
their sworn engagements ne'er maintain. 9 So I to thee, O King of kings,
in new-made hymns my voice shall raise, And instruments of many strings
shall help me thus to sing thy praise:
si to them his sure salvation sends;
6 his servant David still defends.'!
who utter speeches false and vain ;