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Keeping truth forevermore;

Doing justice for th' oppressed; To the hungry giving bread; Freeing prisoners distressed.

He the blind restores to sight;
He the burdened soul upbears;
He the righteous loves, and He
For the friendless stranger cares.

He the fatherless relieves,

And the widow; but the way Of the wicked crooked makesDear and endless is His sway! Hallelujah!



PRAISE ye the Lord: 'tis good to raise
Our hearts and voices in his praise;
His nature and his works invite,
To make this duty our delight.

The Lord builds up Jerusalem,
And gathers nations to his name;
His mercy melts the stubborn soul,
And makes the broken spirit whole.

He formed the stars, those heavenly flames;

He counts their numbers, calls their names!

His wisdom's vast, and knows no bound,

A deep where all our thoughts are drowned!

Great is the Lord, and great his might, And all his glories infinite:

He crowns the meek, rewards the just, And treads the wicked to the dust.

Sing to the Lord, exalt him high,
Who spreads his clouds all round the

There he prepares the fruitful rain,
Nor lets the drops descend in vain.

He makes the grass the hills adorn, And clothes the smiling fields with corn; The beasts with food his hands supply, And the young ravens, when they cry.

What is the creature's skill or force, The sprightly man, the warlike horse,

The nimble wit, the active limb! All are too mean delights for him.

But saints are lovely in his sight;
He views his children with delight:
He sees their hope, he knows their fear,
And looks, and loves his image there.

Let Zion praise the mighty God,
And make his honours known abroad:
For sweet the joy-our songs to raise;
And glorious is the work of praise.

Our children are secure and blest;
Our shores have peace, our cities rest;
He feeds our sons with finest wheat,
And adds his blessing to their meat.

The changing seasons he ordains,
The early and the latter rains:
The flakes of snow, like wool, he sends,
And thus the springing corn defends.

With hoary frost he strews the ground,
His hail descends with clattering sound:
Where is the man so vainly bold,
As dare defy his dreadful cold!

He bids the southern breezes blow; The ice dissolves, the waters flow: But he hath nobler works and ways, To call his people to his praise.

To all our land his laws are shown; His gospel through the nation known: He hath not thus revealed his word To every land:-Praise ye the Lord. ISAAC WATTS (1674-1748).


PRAISE the Lord, ye heavens adore Him,
Praise Him, angels in the height;
Sun and moon rejoice before Him;
Praise Him all ye stars of light!
Praise the Lord, for He hath spoken;
Worlds His mighty voice obeyed;
Laws which never can be broken,
For Thy guidance He hath made.
Praise the Lord! for He is glorious;
Never shall His promise fail;
God hath made the good victorious,
Sin and wrong shall not prevail.
Praise ye God in ev'ry nation,
Hosts on high His power proclaim;

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Let such things as do not live,
In still music praises give:
Lowly pipe, ye worms that creep,
On the earth, or in the deep,
Loud aloft your voices strain,
Beasts and monsters of the main.
Birds, your warbling treble sing;
Clouds, your peals of thunder ring;
Sun and moon, exalted higher,
And you, stars, augment the choir.

Come, ye sons of human race,
In this chorus take your place,
And amid this mortal throng,
Be you masters of the song.
Angels and celestial powers,
Be the noblest tenor yours.
Let, in praise of God, the sound
Run in never-ending round;
That our holy hymn may be
Everlasting, as is He.

From the earth's vast hollow womb,
Music's deepest base shall come;
Sea and floods, from shore to shore,
Shall the counter-tenor roar.
To this concert, when we sing,
Whistling winds, your descant bring,
Which may bear the sound above,
Where the orb of fire doth move;
And so climb from sphere to sphere,
Till our song the Almighty hear.

So shall He from Heaven's high tower
On the earth His blessings shower;

All this huge wide orb we see,
Shall one choir, one temple be.

There our voices we will rear,
Till we fill it everywhere;
And enforce the fiends that dwell
In the air, to sink to hell.
Then, O come, with sacred lays,
Let us sound th' Almighty's praise.
GEORGE WITHER (1588-1667).



"Praise ye the Lord. Praise ye the Lord from the heavens: praise him in the heights."

PRAISE ye the Lord! on every height
Songs to his glory raise!

Ye angel-hosts, ye stars of light,
Join in immortal praise!

Oh! heaven of heavens! let praise farswelling

From all your orbs be sent ! Join in the strain, ye waters, dwelling Above the firmament!

For His the word which gave you birth, And majesty and might;

Praise to the Highest from the earth, And let the deeps unite!

Oh! fire and vapour, hail and snow, Ye servants of His will;

Oh! stormy winds, that only blow His mandates to fulfil;

Mountains and rocks, to heaven that rise;

Fair cedars of the wood; Creatures of life, that wing the skies, Or track the plains for food;

Judges of nations; kings, whose hand
Waves the proud sceptre high;
Oh! youths and virgins of the land,
Oh! age and infancy!

Praise ye His name, to whom alone
All homage should be given;
Whose glory from th' eternal throne
Spreads wide o'er earth and heaven!
FELICIA HEMANS (1793-1835).

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All that breathes with one accord, Join the song and praise the Lord. PETER M'NEILL.


BETTER the morsel, dry and stale,
Where love and quietness prevail,
Than loaded tables, viands various,
Where life and liberty's precarious.

The servant, dealing with discretion, Shall rule the foolish son's possession, And when th' estate the heirs inherit, He shall have portion for his merit.

In silver crucibles there's dross,
But gold in fire sustains no loss:
So hearts of men Jehovah proveth,
The good retains, the dross removeth.

The ill doer evil counsel heedeth,
And liars what to mischief leadeth:
Who mocks the poor derides his Maker:
Who loves ill news shall be partaker.

A crown the honored grandsire wears, Whose waning years deprived of cares: His children's children boast his name, And strive to emulate his fame.

Well chosen words and lofty speech Show fools have grasped beyond their reach :

But living rulers ten times worse
Are to their subjects, shame and curse.

Would'st thou succeed in life's emprise:
Then be thou liberal as wise.
The talisman that will thee lift
And prosper thee's, the ready gift.

THE SONG OF KING LEMUEL. Prov. xxxi: 10.


WHO finds a woman good and wise,
A gem more worth than pearls hath


Her husband's heart on her relies; To live by spoil he needeth not.

His comfort all his life is she;
No wrong she willingly will do;
For wool and flax her searches be,
And cheerful hands she puts thereto.


The merchant ship resembling right,
Her food she from afar doth fet,*
Ere day she wakes, that give she might
Her maids their task, her household


A field she views, and that she buys;
Her hand doth plant a vineyard there;
Her loins with courage up she ties,
Her arms with vigour strengthened are.


If in her work she profit feel,
By night her candle goes not out:
She puts her finger to the wheel,
Her hand the spindle twirls about.
To such as poor and needy are
Her hand (yea, both hands) reacheth

The winter none of hers doth fear,
For double-cloth'd her household be.


She mantles maketh, wrought by hand,
And silk and purple clothing gets.
Among the rulers of the land
(Known in the gate) her husband sits.
For sale fine linen weaveth she,
And girdles to the merchant sends.
Renown and strength her clothing be,
And joy her later time attends.


She speaks discreetly when she talks; The law of grace her tongue hath learn'd;

She heeds the way her household walks,
And feedeth not on bread unearn'd.
Her children rise, and blest her call:
Her husband thus applaudeth her,
Oh, thou hast far surpass'd them all,
Though many daughters thriving are!

Deceitful favour quickly wears,
And beauty suddenly decays;
But, if the Lord she truly fears,
That woman well deserveth praise,
The fruit her handywork obtains:
Without repining grant her that,


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