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1 In mercy, not in wrath, rebuke
Thy feeble worm, O God:
My spirit dreads thy angry look,
And trembles at thy rod,

2 Have mercy, Lord, for I am weak;
Regard my heavy groans;

O let thy voice of comfort speak,
And heal my broken bones.

3 Return, and shew thy pow'r to save,
And spare my fainting breath;
For who can praise thee in the grave?
Or sing thy name in death?

4 Now let my enemies depart,
Nor tempt me to despair:

My Saviour comes to cheer my heart;
The Lord hath heard my prayer.


10 THOU, to whom all creatures bow
Within this earthly frame,

Through all the world how great art thou!
How glorious is thy name!

2 In heav'n thy wondrous acts are sung,
Nor fully reckon❜d there;

And yet thou mak'st the infant tongue
Thy boundless praise declare.

3 When heav'n, thy beauteous work on high, Employs my wond'ring sight,

The moon, that nightly rules the sky,
With stars of feebler light:

4 What's man, O Lord, that thou shouldst love To keep him in thy mind?

His offspring what, that thou shouldst prove
To them so wondrous kind?

5 O Thou, to whom all creatures bow
Within this earthly frame,
Through all the world how great art thou!
How glorious is thy name!


1 LORD, what was man when made at first,
Adam, the offspring of the dust,
That thou shouldst set him and his race
But just below an angel's place!

2 That thou shouldst raise his nature so,
And make him lord of all below!
Make every beast and bird submit,
And lay the fishes at his feet!
3 But O what brighter glories wait
To crown the second Adam's state!
What honours shall thy Son adorn,
Who condescended to be born!
4 See him below his angels made,
See him in dust among the dead,
To save a ruin'd world from sin;
But he shall reign with pow'r divine.
5 The world to come, redeem'd from all
The mis'ries that attend the fall,
New made and glorious shall submit
At our exalted Saviour's feet.


1 WHY doth the Lord stand off so far, And why conceal his face,

When great calamities appear,
And times of deep distress?

2 Lord, shall the wicked still deride
Thy justice and thy pow'r?
Shall they advance their heads in pride,
And still thy saints devour?

3 They put thy judgments from their sight,
And then insult the poor;
They boast in their exalted height,
That they shall fall no more.

4 Arise, O God! lift up thy hand,
Attend our humble cry:
No enemy shall dare to stand,
When God ascends on high.

5 Thou wilt prepare our hearts to pray,
And cause thine ears to hear;
Wilt hearken what thy children say,
And put the world in fear.


1 MY refuge is the God of love: Why do my foes insult and cry,


Fly, like a tim'rous trembling dove;
"To distant woods or mountains fly?"

2 The Lord in heaven hath fix'd his throne'
His eyes survey the world below;
To him all mortal things are known;
His eyelids search our spirits through.

3 If he afflicts his saints so far,

To prove their love, and try their grace,
What may the bold transgressors fear?
His very soul abhors their ways.

4 The righteous Lord loves righteous souls,
Whose thoughts and actions are sincere;
And with a gracious eye beholds
The men that his own image bear.


1 WHEN God is nigh, my faith is strong; His arm is my almighty prop:

Be glad, my heart; rejoice, my tongue;
My dying flesh shall rest in hope.

2 Though in the dust I lay my head,
Yet, gracious God, thou wilt not leave
My soul for ever with the dead,
Nor lose thy children in the grave.

3 My flesh shall thy first call obey,
Shake off the dust, and rise on high;
Then shalt thou lead the wondrous way,
Up to thy throne above the sky.

4 There streams of endless pleasure flow; And full discov'ries of thy grace,

Which we but tasted here below,
Spread heav'nly joys through all the place.


1 WHAT sinners value, I resign;
Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine:
I shall behold thy blissful face,
And stand complete in righteousness.
2 This life's a dream, an empty show;
But the bright world to which I go
Hath joys substantial and sincere:
When shall I wake and find me there?

3 O glorious hour! O blest abode!
I shall be near and like my God;
And flesh and sin no more controul
The sacred pleasures of the soul.
4 My flesh shall slumber in the ground,
Till the last trumpet's joyful sound;
Then burst the chains with sweet surprise,
And in my Saviour's image rise.


I JUST are thy ways, and true thy word,
Great Rock of my secure abode:
Who is a God beside the Lord?
Or where's a refuge like our God?
2 'Tis he that girds me with his might,
Gives me his holy sword to wield;
And, while with sin and hell I fight,
Spreads his salvation for my shield.
3 He lives, (and blessed be my Rock!)
The God of my salvation lives:
The dark designs of hell are broke;
Sweet is the peace my Father gives.
4 To David and his royal seed
Thy grace for ever shall extend:
Thy love to saints, in Christ their head,
Knows not a limit, nor an end.


1 THE spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heav'ns, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.

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