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Thus by the woman's promis'd seed
The serpent's head was broke.

PSALM 40. Third Part. L. M.
Christ our sacrifice.

HE wonders, Lord, thy love has wrought, Exceed our praise, surmount our thought; mould I attempt the long detail,

y speech would faint, my numbers fail.

blood of beasts on altars spilt, n cleanse the souls of men from guilt; t thou hast set before our eyes all-sufficient sacrifice.

heav'n before his Father's throne,
mplacent, smiles th' eternal Son;
d, pleas'd, presents with boundless grace
nself, a ransom for our race.

ehold! I come" (the Saviour cries,
th love and duty in his eyes)
come to bear the heavy load
f sins, and do thy will, my God.
ine ear is open'd to thy voice,
y heart delighted with thy choice :
eas'd, I assume a fleshly form,
kin to man, that dying worm.

is written in thy great decree;
s in thy book foretold of me;
must fulfil the Saviour's part;
dlo! thy law is in my heart.
magnify thy holy law,
d rebels to obedience draw;
nen on my cross I'm lifted high, so
to my crown above the sky.

Spirit chall descend and show

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"The wond'ring world shall learn thy grace, " Thy wisdom and thy righteousness."

PSALM 41. L. M.

Charity to the poor.

BLEST is the man whose bowels move,
And melt with pity to the poor;
Whose soul, by sympathising love,
Feels what his fellow saints endure.

2 His heart contrives, for their relief,
More good than his own hands can do:
He, in the time of gen'ral grief,
Shall find the Lord has bowels too.

3 His soul shall live secure on earth,
With secret blessings on his head;
When drought, and pestilence, and dearth,
Around him multiply their dead.

4 Or, if he languish on his couch,
God will pronounce his sins forgiv'n;
Will save him with a healing touch,
Or take his willing soul to heav'n.

PSALM 42. First Part. C. М.
Desertion and hope.

AS pants the hart for cooling streams,

When heated in the chase;

So longs my soul, O God, for thee,
And thy refreshing grace.

2 For thee, my God, the living God,
My thirsty soul doth pine:
O! when shall I behold thy face,
Thou majesty divine?

3 Tears are my constant food, while thus
Insulting foes upbraid;

" Deluded wretch! where is thy God?
"And where his promis'd aid?"

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is with a mournful pleasure now
I think on ancient days ;
hen to thy house did numbers go,
And all our work was praise.

at why's my soul sunk down so far
Beneath this heavy load?
Thy do my thoughts indulge despair,
And sin against my God?

ope in the Lord, whose mighty hand,
Can all thy woes remove :
r I shall yet before him stand,
And sing restoring love.

PSALM 42. Second Part. L. М.
Hope in affliction.

Y spirit sinks within me, Lord,
But I will call thy name to mind;
d times of past distress record,
hen I have found my God was kind.
gh troubles with tumultuous noise
ell like a sea, and round me spread;
y water-spouts drown all my joys,
1 rising waves roll o'er my head.
will the Lord command his love,
en I address his throne by day,
• in the night his grace remove :
: night shall hear me sing and pray.
cast myself before his feet,

I say, "My God, my heav'nly Rock!
Thy doth thy love so long forget

he soul, that groans beneath thy stroke??

chide my heart that sinks so low ;

y should my soul indulge her grief?

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6 Thy light and truth shall guide me still : Thy word shall my best thoughts employ; And lead me to thine heav'nly hill,

My God, my most exceeding joy.

1

PSALM 43. P. M.
Complaint mingled with hope.

Y God, defend my cause

M Against a host

of foes:

O! save me from th' unjust,
Who triumph in my woes.
Why dost thou faint,
My trembling heart?
To God impart

Thy sad complaint.

2 Why dost thou, O my shield,
Desert me thus forlorn ?
Why, hated and oppress'd,
Thus bid me ceaseless mourn ?
To God I fly;
In God I'll trust,
When low in dust

My head shall lie.
3 Now to thy sacred house
With joy direct my feet;
Where saints, with morning vows,
In full assembly meet.
Thy power divine
Shall there be shown,
And from thy throne
Thy mercy shine.

4 O! send thy light abroad :
Thy truth with heav'nly ray
Shall lead my soul to God;
And guide my doubtful way.

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I'll hear thy word
With faith sincere,
And learn to fear
And praise the Lord.

There reach thy bounteous hand,
And all my sorrows heal ;
There health and strength divine
O! make my bosom feel.

Like balmy dew,
Shall Jesus' voice

My bones rejoice,
My strength renew.

Then in thy holy hill,
Before thine altar, Lord,
My harp and song shall sound
The glories of thy word.
Henceforth to thee,

O God of grace,
A hymn of praise

My life shall be.

My soul, awake to joy,
And triumph in the Lord,
My health, my hope, my song,
And my divine reward.
Ye fears remove ;

No more I mourn ;
But blest, return
To sing his love.

PSALM 44. С. М.

The Church's complaint in persecution.
ORD, we have heard thy works of ol
Thy works of pow'r and grace;
nen to our ears our fathers told
The wonders of their days :

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