13 Before him Righteousness shall go, Then will he come, and not be slow, PSALM LXXXVI. 1 THY gracious ear, O Lord, incline, 2 Preserve my soul; for I have trod Thy servant's soul; for, Lord, to thee I lift my soul and voice. 5 For thou art good, thou, Lord, art prone To pardon, thou to all Art full of mercy, thou alone 7 I, in the day of my distress, For thou wilt grant me free access, 8 Like thee among the Gods is none, 9 The Nations all whom thou hast made 10 For great thou art, and wonders great 11 Teach me, O Lord, thy way most right; I in thy truth will bide; To fear thy Name my heart unite, 12 Thee will I praise, O Lord my God, With my whole heart, and blaze abroad 13 For great thy mercy is toward me, And thou hast freed my soul, Even from the lowest hell set free, From deepest darkness foul. 14 O God, the proud against me rise, To seek my life, and in their eyes 15 But thou, Lord, art the God most mild, Readiest thy grace to shew, Slow to be angry, and art styl'd 16 O, turn to me thy face at length, Unto thy servant give thy strength, 17 Some sign of good to me afford, And be asham'd; because thou, Lord, PSALM LXXXVII. 1 AMONG the holy mountains high 2 Sion's fair gates the Lord loves more Than all the dwellings fair Of Jacob's land, though there be store, 3 City of God, most glorious things Of thee abroad are spoke ; 4 I mention Egypt, where proud kings Did our forefathers yoke. I mention Babel to my friends, And Tyre with Ethiop's utmost ends, 5 But twice that praise shall in our ear This and this man was born in her; 6 The Lord shall write it in a scroll When he the nations doth inroll, 7 Both they who sing, and they who dance, With sacred songs are there; In thee fresh brooks and soft streams glance, And all my fountains clear. PSALM LXXXVIII. 1 LORD God, that dost me save and keep, And all night long before thee weep, 2 Into thy presence let my prayer And to my cries, that ceaseless are, 3 For, cloy'd with woes and trouble store, 4 Reckon'd I am with them that pass I am a man, but weak, alas! 5 From life discharg'd and parted quite Whom thou rememberest no more, Them, from thy hand deliver'd o'er, 6 Thou in the lowest pit profound Where thickest darkness hovers round, 7 Thy wrath, from which no shelter saves, Full sore doth press on me ; Thou break'st upon me all thy waves, R |