THE PSALMS of DAVID, PSALM XXX

I'll Thee extol, O Lord, on high, Who rais'd me, when distress'd; Who check'd my Foes insulting Joy, And all their Hopes suppress'd. O Lord, my God, I cry'd to Thee; And thou did'st heal, and save. Thou from the Pit my Soul hast freed, And kept me from the Grave. Sing to the Lord, O ye his Saints, Your grateful Thanks express; While you, with me, commemorate His rect'ral Holiness. His Anger but a Moment lasts, Life from his Favour springs; If Night be sill'd with Grief, and Tears, With Joy the Morning sings. Flush'd with Success, I fondly said, "I shall unmov'd abide. Thy Favour, Lord, confirm'd my State, Thou hid'st, and Comforts dy'd. Then, Lord, to Thee I cry'd; to Thee My earnest Suit I made. "What Profit is there in my Blood, "When in the Grave I'm laid? "Shall there my Dust thy Praise proclaim? "Or glorious Truths declare? Hear, Lord, and on me Mercy have, And for my Help appear. Thou heard'st; and to o'erflowing Joy, My former Mourning turn'd; With Gladness thou hast girt me round, Who late in Sackcloth mourn'd. To this Intent, my Tongue may sing, Incessantly thy Praise; O Lord, my God, my Thanks to Thee, I'll render all my Days.