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[Ill tidings never can surprise His heart that fix'd on God relies, Tho' waves and tempests roar around: Safe on the rock he sits, and sees The shipwreck of his enemies, And all their hope and glory drown'd.

The wicked shall his triumph see, And gnash their teeth in agony To find their expectations crost: They and their envy, pride and spite, Sink down to everlasting night, And all their names in darkness lost.]

Psalm 112:2. L. M. The blessings of the pious and charitable.

Thrice happy man who fears the Lord, Loves his commands, and trusts his word; Honour and peace his days attend, And blessings to his seed descend.

Compassion dwells upon his mind, To works of mercy still inclin'd: He lends the poor some present aid, Or gives them, not to be repaid.

When times grow dark, and tidings spread That fill his neighbours round with dread, His heart is arm'd against the fear, For God with all his power is there.

His soul, well fix'd upon the Lord, Draws heavenly courage from his word; Amidst the darkness light shall rise, To cheer his heart, and bless his eyes.

He hath dispers'd his alms abroad, His works are still before his God; His name on earth shall long remain, While envious sinners fret in vain.

Psalm 112:3. C. M, Liberality rewarded.

Happy is he that fears the Lord, And follows his commands, Who lends the poor without reward, Or gives with liberal hands.

As pity dwells within his breast To all the sons of need; So God shall answer his request With blessings on his seed,

No evil tidings shall surprise His well-establish'd mind; His soul to God his refuge flies, And leaves his fears behind.

In times of general distress, Some beams of light shall shine To shew the world his righteousness, And give him peace divine.

His works of piety and love Remain before the Lord; Honour on earth and joys above Shall be his sure reward.

Psalm 113:1. Proper Time. The majesty and condescension of God.

Ye that delight to serve the Lord, The honours of his Name record, His sacred Name for ever bless: Where'er the circling sun displays His rising beams, or setting rays, Let lands and seas his power confess.

Not time, nor nature's narrow rounds, Can give his vast dominion bounds, The heavens are far below his height: Let no created greatness dare With our eternal God compare, Arm'd with his uncreated might.

He bows his glorious head to view What the bright hosts of angels do, And bends his care to mortal things; His sovereign hand exalts the poor, He takes the needy from the door, And makes them company for kings.

When childless families despair, He sends the blessings of an heir To rescue their expiring name: The mother with a thankful voice Proclaims his praises and her joys: Let every age advance his fame.

Psalm 113:2. L. M. God sovereign and gracious.

Ye servants of th' Almighty King, In every age his praises sing; Where'er the sun shall rise or set, The nations shall his praise repeat.

Above the earth, beyond the sky, Stands his high throne of majesty: Nor time, nor place, his power restrain, Nor bound his universal reign.

Which of the sons of Adam dare, Or angels, with their God compare? His glories how divinely bright, Who dwells in uncreated light!

Behold his love: he stoops to view What saints above and angels do; And condescends yet more to know The mean affairs of men below.

From dust and cottages obscure His grace exalts the humble poor; Gives them the honour of his sons, And fits them for their heavenly thrones.

[A word of his creating voice Can make the barren house rejoice: Tho' Sarah's ninety years were past, The promis'd seed is born at last.

With joy the mother views her son, And tells the wonders God has done: Faith may grow strong when sense despairs, If nature fails, the promise bears.]

Psalm 114. Miracles attending Israel's journey.

When Israel, freed from Pharaoh's hand, Left the proud tyrant and his land, The tribes with cheerful homage own Their King, and Judah was his throne.

Across the deep their journey lay; The deep divides to make them way: Jordan beheld their march, and fled With backward current to his head.

The mountains shook like frighted sheep, Like lambs the little hillocks leap; Not Sinai on her base could stand, Conscious of sovereign power at hand.

What power could make the deep divide? Make Jordan backward roll his tide? Why did ye leap, ye little hills? And whence the fright that Sinai feels?

Let every mountain, every flood, Retire and know th' approaching God, The king of Israel: see him here; Tremble, thou earth, adore and fear.

He thunders, and all nature mourns, The rock to standing pools he turns; Flints spring with fountains at his word, And fires and seas confess the Lord.

Psalm 115:1. First Metre. The true God our refuge; or, Idolatry reproved.

Not to ourselves, who are but dust, Not to ourselves is glory due, Eternal God, thou only just, Thou only gracious, wise, and true.

Shine forth in all thy dreadful Name; Why should a heathen's haughty tongue Insult us, and to raise our shame Say, "Where's the God you've serv'd so long?"

The God we serve maintains his throne Above the clouds, beyond the skies, Thro' all the earth his will is done, He knows our groans, he hears our cries.

But the vain idols they adore Are senseless shapes of stone and wood; At best a mass of glittering ore, A silver saint, or golden god.

[With eyes, and ears they carve their head, Deaf are their ears, their eyes are blind; In vain are costly offerings made, And vows are scatter'd in the wind.

Their feet were never made to move, Nor hands to save when mortals pray; Mortals that pay them fear or love Seem to be blind and deaf as they.]

O Israel, make the Lord thy hope, Thy help, thy refuge, and thy rest; The Lord shall build thy ruins up, And bless the people and the priest.

The dead no more can speak thy praise, They dwell in silence and the grave; But we shall live to sing thy grace, And tell the world thy power to save.

Psalm 115:2. Second Metre. As the new tune of the 50th Psalm. Popish idolatry reproved.

A psalm for the 5th of November.

Not to our names, thou only Just and True, Not to our worthless names is glory due; Thy power and grace, thy truth and justice claim Immortal honours to thy sovereign Name: Shine thro' the earth from heaven, thy blest abode, Nor let the heathens say, "And where's your God?"

Heaven is thine higher court; there stands thy throne, And thro' the lower worlds thy will is done: Our God fram'd all this earth, these heavens he spread, But fools adore the gods their hands have made: The kneeling crowd, with looks devout, behold Their silver saviours, and their saints of gold.

[Vain are those artful shapes of eyes and ears; The molten image neither sees nor hears: Their hands are helpless, nor their feet can move, They have no speech, nor thought, nor power, nor love; Yet sottish mortals make their long complaints To their deaf idols, and their moveless saints.

The rich have statues well adorn'd with gold; The poor, content with gods of coarser mould, With tools of iron carve the senseless stock, Lopt from a tree, or broken from a rock: People and priest drive on the solemn trade, And trust the gods that saws and hammers made.]

Be heaven and earth amaz'd! 'Tis hard to say Which is more stupid, or their gods or they: O Israel, trust the Lord, he hears and sees, He knows thy sorrows, and restores thy peace: His worship does a thousand comforts yield, He is thy help, and he thy heavenly shield.

O Britain, trust the Lord: thy foes in vain Attempt thy ruin, and oppose his reign; Had they prevail'd, darkness had clos'd our days, And death and silence had forbid his praise; But we are sav'd, and live: let songs arise, And Britain bless the God that built the skies.

Psalm 116:1. First Part. Recovery from sickness.

I love the Lord; he heard my cries, And pity'd every groan: Long as I live, when troubles rise, I'll hasten to his throne.

I love the Lord; he bow'd his ear, And chas'd my griefs away; O let my heart no more despair, While I have breath to pray!

My flesh declin'd, my spirits fell, And I drew near the dead, While inward pangs, and fears of hell Perplex'd my wakeful head.

"My God," I cry'd "thy servant save, "Thou ever good and just; "Thy power can rescue from the grave, "Thy power is all my trust."

The Lord beheld me sore distrest, He bid my pains remove: Return, my soul, to God thy rest, For thou hast known his love.

My God hath sav'd my soul from death, And dry'd my failing tears; Now to his praise I'll spend my breath, And my remaining years.

Psalm 116:2. 12 &c. Second Part. Vows made in trouble paid in the church; or, Public thanks for private deliverance.

What shall I render to my God For all his kindness shown? My feet shall visit thine abode, My songs address thy throne.

Among the saints that fill thine house, My offerings shall be paid; There shall my zeal perform the vows My soul in anguish made.

How much is mercy thy delight, Thou ever blessed God! How dear thy servants in thy sight! How precious is their blood!

How happy all thy servants are! How great thy grace to me! My life which thou hast made thy care, Lord, I devote to thee.

Now I am thine, for ever thine, Nor shall my purpose move; Thy hand hath loos'd my bonds of pain, And bound me with thy love.

Here in thy courts I leave my vow, And thy rich grace record; Witness, ye saints, who hear me now, If I forsake the Lord.

Psalm 117:1. C. M. Praise to God from all nations.

O all ye nations, praise the Lord, Each with a different tongue; In every language learn his word, And let his Name be sung.

His mercy reigns thro' every land; Proclaim his grace abroad; For ever firm his truth shall stand, Praise ye the faithful God.