Psalm XC. Long Metre. Divine protection thro' every age

Thou, Lord, thro' every changing scene, Hast to thy saints a refuge been! Thro' every age, eternal GOD, Their pleasing home, their safe abode!

In thee our fathers sought their rest, And were with thy protection blest; Tho' in the shade of death they lie, They'll rise and dwell above the sky.

Behold their sons, a feeble race! We come to fill our fathers' place! Our helpless state with pity view, And let us share their refuge too.

Thro' all the thorny paths we tread, Ere we are number'd with the dead; When friends desert, and foes invade, Be thou our all sufficient aid.

So when this pilgrimage is o'er, And we must dwell on earth no more; To thee, great God, may we ascend And find an everlasting friend.

To thee our infant race we'll leave, Them, may their father's God receive; That voices yet unform'd may raise Succeeding hymns of humble praise.