Psalm LXV. First Part. Long Metre. Public Worship

For thee, O God, our constant praise In Zion waits, thy chosen seat: Our promis'd altars there we'll raise, And all our zealous vows complete.

O thou, who to my humble prayer Didst always bend thy listening ear, To thee, shall all mankind repair, And at thy gracious throne appear.

Our sins, tho, numberless, in vain To stop thy flowing mercy try; For thou wilt purge the guilty strain, And wash away the crimson dye.

Blest is the man, who, near thee plac'd, Within thy sacred dwelling lives; Whilst we at humbler distance taste The vast delight thy worship gives.