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For dogs have compass'd me: a rout Of wicked me beset;

My hands they and my feet have dug Ev'n as a lion would.

My bones I may tell all of them;
They look and stare on me.

My Cloathes they part among themselves,

And on my Robe throw lots.

But, O Eternal One, be not

Thou far estrang'd from me.

O thou that art my strength make haste With succor unto me.

Save my Soul from the Sword; from the

Dogs paw my Only one.

From lions mouth save me, and bear Me from the Wild-Goats horns.

I will declare thy Name to those
That are my Bretheren;

I will praise thee in the middest of
The Congregation praise.

Who fear th' Eternal God, praise Him;
All you of Jacob's seed,

Glorify Him; and fear Him all

You seed of Israel.

For He hath not despised nor loath'd,
Th' abasement of the poor;
Nor hath He hid His face from him,
But heard his cry to Him.

In the great Congregation now

From Thee shall be my praise; Before such as do fear Him now I will perform my Vows.

The poor shall eat and have enough; They'll praise the Eternal God,

Who seek for Him; your heart shall live

To all Eternity.

All the Worlds bounds remembring shall Turn to th' Eternal God;

And of the Nations all the Tribes,

Bow down before His face.

For unto the Eternal God

The Kingdom doth belong;

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Out of the sunshine, warm and soft and bright,

Out of the sunshine into darkest night; I oft would faint with sorrow and affright,

Only for this-I know He holds my hand,

So whether in a green or desert land I trust, although I may not understand. And by still waters? No, not always so; Ofttimes the heavy tempests round me blow,

And o'er my soul the waves and billows go.

And when the storm beats loudest, and I cry

Aloud for help, the Master standeth by And whispers to my soul: "Lo! it is I." Above the tempest wild I hear Him say: "Beyond this darkness lies the perfect


In every path of thine I lead the way." So whether on the hilltop high and fair I dwell, or in the sunless valley where The shadows lie-what matters? He is


And more than this; where'er the pathway lead,

He gives to me no helpless, broken reed. But His own hand sufficient for my need.

So where He leadeth I can safely go; And in the blest hereafter I shall know Why, in His wisdom, He hath led me so. ANONYMOUS.

THE TWENTY-THIRD PSALME. THE God of love my shepherd is,

And he that doth me feed: While he is mine, and I am his, What can I want or need?

He leads me to the tender grasse,
Where I both feed and rest;
Then to the streams that gently pass:
In both I have the best.

Or if I stray, he doth convert, And bring my minde in frame: And all this not for my desert But for his holy name.

Yea, in death's shadie black abode
Well may I walk, not fear:
For thou art with me, and thy rod
To guide, thy staffe to bear.

Nay, thou dost make me sit and dine,
Ev'n in my enemies' sight:
My head with oyl, my cup with wine
Runnes over day and night.

Surely thy sweet and wondrous love
Shall measure all my dayes;
And as it never shall remove
So neither shall my praise.

GEORGE HERBERT (1593-1633).


THE Lord my pasture shall prepare,
And feed me with a shepherd's care;
His presence shall my wants supply,
And guard me with a watchful eye;
My noonday walks he shall attend,
And all my midnight hours defend.

When in the sultry glebe I faint, Or on the thirsty mountain pant, To fertile vales and dewy meads

My weary, wandering steps He leads,
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.

Though in the paths of death I tread,
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My steadfast heart shall fear no ill,
For thou, O Lord, art with me still:
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful

Though in a bare and rugged way, Through devious lonely wilds, I stray, Thy bounty shall my wants beguile; The barren wilderness shall smile, With sudden greens and herbage crowned,

And streams shall murmur all around. JOSEPH ADDISON (1672-1719).


EARTH is the Lord's!

And all its fulness His!
This world of ours,

And they who therein dwell.
For He hath laid
Upon the mighty seas
The earth, and deep
Foundations of our globe;
And on the floods
Hath built it firm and well!

Who shall ascend
Into Jehovah's hill?
Who stand within

His holy place on high?
Of hands the clean,
The pure of heart and will!
He who hath not
Lifted to vanity
His soul, nor hath
He sworn deceitfully.

He shall receive

The blessings of the Lord!
He shall receive

The perfect righteousness
From Him who is
To him salvation's God.
Of those who Him

Do seek, such is the race
Of those who do,

O Jacob, seek Thy face.

Lift up, O gates,

Lift up your heads on high!
Be lifted up,

Doors of eternity!
Then He, the King

Of glory, shall come in!
Who can this King,
This King of Glory be?
Jehovah strong,

In battle mighty He!

Lift up, O gates!

Lift up your heads on high,
Yea, lift them up,
Doors of eternity!
Then He, the King

Of glory, shall come in!
Who can this King,
This King of Glory be?
The Lord of hosts,
The King of glory He!
HORATIUS BONAR (1808-1889)


To God in whom I trust,
I lift my heart and voice;
O let me not be put to shame,
Nor let my foes rejoice.

Those who on thee rely,
Let no disgrace attend;

Be that the shameful lot of such
As wilfully offend.

To me thy truth impart,

And lead me in thy way;

For thou art he who brings me help, On thee I wait all day.

Thy mercies and thy love,
O Lord recall to mind;
And graciously continue still,
As thou wert ever, kind.

To Israel's chosen race
Continue ever kind.

And in the midst of all their wants,
Let them thy succor find.



JUDGE me, O Lord, for I have walk'd In mine integrity;

I trusted also in the Lord,

Slide therefore shall not I.
Examine me, and do me prove;

Try heart and reins, O God:
For thy love is before mine eyes,
Thy truth's paths I have trode.

With persons vain I have not sat,
Nor with dissemblers gone.
Th' assembly of ill men I hate;
To sit with such I shun.
Mine hands in innocence, O Lord,
I'll wash and purify;

So to thine holy altar go,
And compass it will I.

That I, with voice of thanksgiving,
May publish and declare,
And tell of all thy mighty works,
That great and wondrous are.
The habitation of thy house,
Lord, I have loved well;
Yea in that place I do delight
Where doth thine honour dwell.

With sinners gather not my soul,
And such as blood would spill:
Whose hands mischievous plots, right

Corrupting bribes do fill.

But as for me, I will walk on
In mine integrity:

Do thou redeem me, and O Lord,

Be merciful to me.

My foot upon an even place
Doth stand with steadfastness:

Within the congregations

Th' Eternal I will bless.



אחת שאלתי מאת ד'

How precious is that one desire Of David in his song

A sacred treasure for the soul, A shelter from the wrong.

To see God's beauty all his life; To be allowed to peer

Within His temple for the truthTo seek His glory there.

Thus, should the hour of trouble come,
There's a pavilion nigh;

A sure and secret hiding place
Preferred by the Most High.

A simple thought, a simple prayer.
But what a burst of praise!
Who seeks God's beauty in His works
Gives life and length of days.



THOU art, O Lord my strength and stay,
The succour which I crave:
Neglect me not, lest I be like

To them that go to grave.
The voice of thy suppliant heare,
That unto thee doth crie:
When I lift up my hands unto
Thy holy Arke most hie.

Repute me not among the sort

Of wicked and pervert:

That speake right faire unto their friends

And think ful il in hart. According to their handywork As they deserve in deede :

And after their inventions,

Let them receive their meede.

For they regard nothing God's works
His law ne yet his lore:

Therefore he will them and their seede
Destroy for evermore.

To render thanks unto the Lord,

How great a cause have I:

My voice, my praier, and my complaint That heard so willingly.

He is my shield and fortitude,
My buckler in distress:

My hope, my health, my hart's refuge,
My song shall him confes.

He is our strength and our defence,
Our enemies to resist.

Thy people and thy heritage,

Lord, blesse, guide, and preserve:

Increase them Lord and rule their harts
That they may never swerve.
THOMAS STERN HOLD (circa 1500-1549).


YE princes' sonnes, yield to the Lorde,
Yield Him all force and gloire,
And yield to Him the honoure deu
Unto His name thairfoire.
Inclyne and bou youreselfis adoune;
Adore Jehoua great,

Quho sittis most gloriously upon
His throne and holy seat.

The uoyce of God on uattiris ringis, And makis a wondrousse sound; Strong gloriouse God doth thunder, his uoyce

On uattiris that abound:

The uoyce of God cummis semely furth, His uoyce cummis forth with micht; Jehoua's uoyce the cedres brekis,

Euen Leban's cedres wicht,

And makis thaime as a calf to skipp Hudge Leban, Sirion eik,

Lyke to the faime of vnicornis,

Will leap quhen he doth speik.
His uoyce makis wildernesses murne,
And quenchis flammes of fyre;
Euen the desertis of Kades large
May not abyde His yre.

Jehoua's uoice makis hyndis to calue,
And tirris the forrestis grene;
Bot in His temple all His gloire
He showis and makis be sene.
Jehoua satt in the deluge,

And sittis a King for aye;
He also to His people giues
The force thay have allwaye.

The same Jehoua great doth blesse
His people well belouid.
With great tranquillitie and peace,
Pray it be not remouid.



LORD God thy praise I will declare,
For why, thou hast me magnifide?
My foes insultings thou didst bar,
And sav'dst me, when for help I cride.

Yea from the dungeon and the pit,
Thou keptst my soul and life, oh Lord,
Let all thy Saints (remembering it)
With praise thy holiness recorde.
Thy wrath abides not long in thee,
But in thy favour life appears;
And joy shall in the morning be,
Though over-night there may be teares.
In my advancement, once I sayd,
That nothing should my foot remove;
Because my mountain thou hadst laid
So firmlie, Lord, by thy meer love.
Yet when thy face thou didst but hide,
I quickly was opprest againe.
And then to thee againe I cride;
And in my crie did thus complaine.
What profit will my bloud afford,
When I shal to the grave descend?
Oh! cann it sing thy praises, Lord?
Or cann the dust thy truth comend?
Lord, heare, and pitie take on me;
To succour me, thy help employ:
That chang'd to songs my sighs may be;
My mourning weeds to robes of joy,
So I, forever, with my tongue
Will praise thee (oh my God my Lord)
And in a never ending song
Thy mercies thanck fully record.

GEORGE WITHER (1588-1667)



FATHER, I know that all my life
Is portioned out for me,

And the changes that are sure to come,
I do not fear to see;

But I ask Thee for a present mind,
Intent on pleasing Thee.

I ask Thee for a thoughful love,
Through constant watching wise,
To meet the glad with joyful smiles,
And to wipe the weeping eyes;
And a heart at leisure from itself
To soothe and sympathise.

I would not have the restless will
That hurries to and fro,
Seeking for some great thing to do,
Or secret things to know;
I would be treated as a child,
And guided where I go.

Wherever in the world I am,
In whatsoe'er estate,

I have a fellowship with hearts
To keep and cultivate,

And a work of lowly love to do For the Lord on whom I wait.

So I ask Thee for the daily strength,
To none that ask denied,

And mind to blend with outward life
While keeping at Thy side;
Content to fill a little space,

If Thou be glorified.

And if some things I do not ask,
In my cup of blessing be,

I would have my Spirit filled the more
With grateful love to Thee-
More careful-not to serve Thee much,
But to please Thee perfectly.

There are briers besetting every path,
That call for patient care;
There is a cross in every lot,
And an earnest need for prayer;
But a lowly heart that leans on Thee,
Is happy anywhere.

In a service which Thy will appoints,
There are no bonds for me,

For my inmost heart is taught "the truth"

That makes Thy children "free";
And a life of self-renouncing love
Is a life of liberty.

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