PSALM XXX. 2d Meetre

O Lord, I'll Thee extol with Praise, Who me above my Foes did'st raise; And their insulting Joy restrain. O Lord, my God, in my Distress, My Pray'r to Thee I did address; And thou hast heal'd my Grief, and Pain. Thou, Lord, did'st from the Grave revive, And keep my fainting Soul alive; Lest to the Pit I should go down. O ye his Saints, sing to the Lord. With thankfull Hearts; while ye record The Truth, and Goodness, he has shown. He Anger but a Moment keeps, His Favour's Life; if Ev'ning weeps, The rising Sun returns with Joy. When with Success I prospered, My foolish Heart grew vain, and said, "No Change shall e'er my State annoy. But, Lord, I was convinc'd e'er long, Thy Favour made my Mountain strong; Thou hid'st thy Face, and Comforts dy'd. Then, Lord, I humbly Thee address'd, My Pride, and Folly, I confess'd; And thus with Supplication cry'd. What profit is there in my Blood, If to the Grave descend I shou'd? Can there my Mouth thy Praises Sing? Or can my Dust thy Truth declare? Have Mercy on me, Lord, and hear, And timely Succours to me bring. Then, to a Dance, my Mourning, hast Thou turn'd, and off my Sackcloth cast; And round with Gladness girded me: To th' End, my Tongue may sing thy Praise, And not be silent; all my Days, My God, I will give Thanks to Thee.