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APPROACH, ye piously dispos'd,
And my Instruction hear;
I'll teach you the true Discipline
Of his religious Fear.

Let him who Length of Life desires,
And prosp'rous Days would see,
From sland'rous Language keep his

His Lins from Falsehood free. The crooked Paths of Vice decline, And Virtue's Ways pursue, Establish Peace, where 'tis begun; And where 'tis lost, renew.

The Lord from Heav'n beholds the Just With favorable Eyes,

And, when distress'd, his gracious Ear Is open to their Cries.

But turns his wrathful Look on those
Whom Mercy can't reclaim,

To cut them off, and from the Earth
Blot out their hated Name.
Deliv'rance of his Saints he gives,
When his Relief they crave;
He's nigh to heal the broken Heart,
And contrite Spirit save.

The Wicked oft, but still in vain,
Against the just conspire;
For under their Affliction's Weight
He keeps their Bones entire.
The Wicked, from their Wicked Arts,
Their Ruin shall derive;
While righteous Men, whom they detest,
Shall them and theirs survive.

For God preserves the Souls of those,
Who on his Truth depend;
To them, and their Posterity,
His Blessings shall descend.


LORD, strive with them that take the

field, contend with them that fight; Gird on thy buckler, spread the shield, and vindicate my right. Draw out the spear, and stop their way, who seek to shed my blood, And to my soul in mercy say, "I am thy Saviour, God."

Let them in shame be cast behind, who strive for my defeat;

Make them like chaff before the wind, their host let angels meet: Drive them in darkness through the snares they causeless for me laid. Make them to fall at unawares, into the pit they made.

Then joy in thee shall tune my tongue, for thy great grace to me And all my powers shall raise the song, "Lord who is like to thee?" Thou dost with strength uphold the

weak, from him that is too strong; And dost with favor shield the meek

from spoilers and from wrong.

False witnesses against me stood, though I was clear from guile;

They rendered evil for my good, and did my soul despoil.

When sickness and distress were theirs my soul with fasting mourned, Those blessings sought for them in prayers, into my breast returned.

For them in sackcloth I did bend, for them warm tears I shed;

As tho' bereft of dearest friend, or for a mother dead.

Yet in my halting they were glad, assembled objects vile;

They gnashed and tore, and mockers had, I knew it not the while.

How long wilt thou look on, oh Lord! from ruin save my soul;

Then shall my thanks exalt thy word, with throngs thy name extol. Let not my foes exult in wrongs, in falsehoods, taunts and strife; Save from their sneers and vaunting

tongues the men of peaceful life. "Our eyes have seen, aha!" they cried, Lord, come, for thou hast known; Rouse up for right, my cause decide, ascend thy righteous throne Judge me in truth before the proud, is all that I desire,

Let them not say, and shout aloud, "We slew him in our ire."

Clothe them who boast in robes of

shame, and humble men of pride; Let those who love my cause exclaim, "May God be magnified!"

Let them with shouts their joy express, and never ceasing praise, Then will I tell thy righteousness, thy glory all my days.

ABNER JONES. (Published New York, 1850.)


THY mercy, Lord, is in the heavn's; Thy truth doth reach the clouds: Thy justice is like mountains great; Thy judgments deep as floods.

Lord, thou preservest man and beast. How precious is thy grace! Therefore, in shadow of thy wings, Men's sons their trust shall place.

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Oh Lord! thou know'st what things I want;

My mournings are not hidd from


My strength decayes, my hart doth pant,

Mine eyesight also faileth me. My freinds and kindred shun my grief: My lovers hide themselves away: And they who seek to take my life, Close-engines to ensnare me lay. Yea, they who for my harm await, Speake words that full of mischief


Yet how al day they muze deceit,

I (hearing) will not seeme to hear. Nay I have stood as mute as he Whose tongue is parcht, whose throte is dry,

Whose eares depriv'd of hearing be;
And in whose mouth is no replie.
For I oh Lord, on thee relie,

And answere I expect from thee:
Oh! therfore now attend my crie,
Lest els my foes insult on me.
For if my foot but slip aside

They, in my fall, themselves delight;
My feet (alas) are prone to slide,
And still my greefs are in my fight.
Beholde, for my offence I greeve,

And my transgressions I bewaile; Yet still my foes encrease and live; Yea, still my foes causeless prevaile. Moreover they who render ill

For doing well; have mee withstood, And borne me hate for my good-will, Because I love the thing that's good. Lord, go not far, therefore, from hence; From me, my God! depart not farr: But make thou speed in my defence; Because from thee my succours are. GEORGE WITHER (1588-1667).


I vow'n to keep my waies upright,
And that in words I none should


While siners were, therfore, in sight,
I shut my lipps, and stayd my tongue:
What e'er they sayd, I silent stood;
Refraining words, though they were

But greefs did them to stirr beginn,
Which hot in me my hart did make;
My thoughts inflam'd a fire within,
Which loos'd my tongue, and then I

Lord of my end, informe thou me:
And what my dayes and frailties be.

For loe, my life is but a spann;

It seems as nothing in thine eyes: Ev'n at his best most vaine is man, And like a shade away he flies.

He tires himself with needless paines,

And knowes not who shall reap the gaines.

On thee, therefore I do attend:

My trust, oh Lord, I place on thee. From all my sinns, my soul defend; From flouting fooles preserve thou


For I forbare to speak a word, Because it was thy doing Lord.

Thy hand with blowes doth me inflict; Oh! take thy heavy strokes away. When thou for sinn dost man correct, Thou, Moth-like, fretst their Forme awaie.

Therfore no cause of doubts remaine,

That ev'ry man is wholie vaine.

Lord, heare my suite: my criengs hear;
Let not my teares unmention'd goe:
For as thy Guests my Fathers were
(And strangers here) ev'n I am soe,
Oh! spare and grant me strength, I

Before I passe from hence for aye.
GEORGE WITHER (1588-1667).


I WAITED meekly for the Lord,
Till He vouchsaf'd a kind reply:
He did His gracious ear afford,

And heard from heaven my humble cry.

How shall my grateful heart recount

The works, O God, which Thou hast wrought!

The treasures of Thy love surmount The power of numbers, speech, and thought.

I know that Thou hast not desir'd
Off'rings and sacrifice alone;
Nor blood of guiltless beast requir'd
For man's transgression to atone.

O help me, therefore, to fulfil
The sacred truth Thy words impart;
Make me to love Thy perfect will,
And write Thy law upon my heart.
OF ENGLAND, ED. W. J. HALL (1844).


THE man is blest that heeds the pore, From dangers God will him repreeve: He will preserve his life, therfore,

And unto him preferment give. The Lord will gard him from his foes, When him they labour to surprise; Refresh him when that weak he growes, And make his bedd, when sicke he lies.

In mercie cure my soul I pray;

For Lord, ev'n thee I did offend. Vile words of me my foes do say;

And with my fame and life had end. When me they spie, fair showes they make:

But in their harts my harm desire; Which when they come abroade, they speake,

Where all my foes my wrong conspire. Some ill disease hath he( they sedd)

Hee's downe, and shall no more arise: Nay, he whom I have lov'd and fedd,

(My trusted freind) did me despise. But help me, Lord, and raise me now, That I their dealings may requite.

I shall thereby my favour knowe,
If thou prevent my Foes despight.
Thou dost maintaine my Righteousness,
And in thy sight still placest me:
The Lord, the God of Isr'el bless;
Oh! let him blest for ever be.

GEORGE WITHER (1588-1667).

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