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13 Before him Righteousness shall go,
His royal harbinger :
His footsteps cannot err.
1 Thy gracious ear, O Lord, incline,
O hear me, I thee pray;
With need, and sad decay.
2 Preserve my soul ; for I have trod
Thy ways, and love the just;
Who still in thee doth trust.
3 Pity me, Lord, for daily thee 4 I call ; O make rejoice 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
To them that on thee call.
6 Unto my supplication, Lord,
Give ear, and to the cry
7 I, in the day of my distress,
Will call on thee for aid ;
And answer what I pray'd.
8 Like thee among the Gods is none,
O Lord ; nor any works
Like to thy glorious works.
9 The Nations all whom thou hast made
Shall come, and all shall frame
And glorify thy Name.
10 For great thou art, and wonders great
By thy strong hand are done :
Remainest God alone.
11 Teach me, O Lord, thy way most right;
I in thy truth will bide ;
So shall it never slide.
12 Thee will I praise, O Lord my God,
Thee honour and adore
Thy Name for evermore.
13 For great thy mercy is toward me,
And thou hast freed my soul,
From deepest darkness foul.
14 O God, the proud against me rise,
And violent men are met
No fear of thee have set.
15 But thou, Lord, art the God most mild,
Readiest thy grace to shew,
Most merciful, most true.
16 O, turn to me thy face at length,
And me have mercy on;
And save thy handmaid's son.
17 Some sign of good to me afford,
And let my foes then see,
Dost help and comfort me.
1 AMONG the holy mountains high
Is his foundation fast;
His temple there is plac'd.
2 Sion's fair gates the Lord loves more
Than all the dwellings fair
And all within his care.
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,
Philistia full of scorn ;
Lo this man there was born :
5 But twice that praise shall in our ear
Be said of Sion last ;
High God shall fix her fast.
6 The Lord shall write it in a scroll
That ne'er shall be out-worn, When he the nations doth inroll,
That this man there was born.
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.
1 LORD God, that dost me save and keep,
All day to thee I cry;
Before thee prostrate lie.
2 Into thy presence let my prayer
With sighs devout ascend;
Thine ear with favour bend.
3 For, cloy'd with woes and trouble store,
Surcharg'd my soul doth lie;
Unto the grave draws nigh.
4 Reckon'd I am with them that pass
Down to the dismal pit ;
And for that name unfit.
5 From life discharg’d and parted quite
Among the dead to sleep;
That in the grave lie deep,
Whom thou rememberest no more,
Dost never more regard,
Death's hideous house hath barr'd.
6 Thou in the lowest pit profound
Hast set me all forlorn,
In horrid deeps to mourn.
7 Thy wrath, from which no shelter saves,
Full sore doth press on me ;
And all thy waves break me.