2 He from the dreadful gates of death
Does his own children raise;
In Zion's gates with cheerful breath,
They sing their Father's praise.

3 His foes shall fall with heedless feet
Into the pit they made;
And sinners perish in the net

That their own hands have spread.
4 Thus by thy judgments, mighty God!
Are thy deep counsels known;
When men of mischief are destroyed,
In snares that were their own.

5 The wicked shall sink down to hell;
Thy wrath devour the lands
That dare forget thee, or rebel
Against thy known commands.

6 Though saints to sore distress are brought,
And wait, and long complain,
Their cries shall never be forgot,
Nor shall their hopes be vain.

7 Rise, great Redeemer, from thy seat,
To judge and save the poor;
Let nations tremble at thy feet,
And man prevail no more.

8 Thy thunder shall affright the proud,
And put their hearts to pain,
Make them confess that thou art God,
And they but feeble men.

PSALM 10. C. M.

WHY doth the Lord depart so far,

And why conceal his face,

When great calamities appear,
And times of deep distress?

2 Lord, shall the wicked still deride
Thy justice and thy laws?

Shall they advance their heads in pride,
And slight thy righteous cause?

3 They cast thy judgments from their sight, And then insult the poor;

They boast, in their exalted height,
That they shall fall no more.

4 Arise, O God, lift up thine hand,
Attend our humble cry;
No enemy shall dare to stand
When God ascends on high.

5 Why do the men of malice rage,
And say, with foolish pride,
"The God of heaven will ne'er engage
To fight on Zion's side?"

6 But thou for ever art our Lord;
And mighty is thy hand,

As when the heathen felt thy sword,
And perished from thy land.

7 Thou wilt prepare our hearts to pray,
And cause thine ear to hear;

Accept the vows thy children pay,
And free thy saints from fear.

8 Proud tyrants shall no more oppress,
No more despise the just;
And mighty sinners shall confess
They are but earth and dust.

PSALM 11. L. M.

MY refuge is the God of love;

Why do my foes insult and cry,

"Fly like a timorous trembling dove, To distant woods or mountains fly?"

2 Behold the wicked bend their bow,
And fit their arrows to the string;
To lay the men of virtue low,
In secrecy their darts they fling.
3 If government be once destroyed
(That firm foundation of our peace,)
And violence make justice void,

Where shall the righteous seek redress? 4 The Lord in heaven has fixed his throne, His eye surveys the world below; To him all mortal things are known, His eyelids search our spirits through. 5 If he afflicts his saints so far,

To prove their love and try their grace, What may the bold transgressors fear? His soul abhors their wicked ways. 6 On impious wretches he will rain Sulphureous flames of wasting death, Such as he kindled on the plain Of Sodom, with his angry breath.

7 The righteous Lord loves righteous souls, Whose thoughts and actions are sincere ; And with a gracious eye beholds

The men that his own image bear.

HE

PSALM 12. C. M.

[ELP, Lord, for men of virtue fail,
Religion loses ground;

The sons of violence prevail,

And treacheries abound.

2 Their oaths and promises they break,
Yet act the flatterer's part:

With fair deceitful lips they speak,
And with a double heart.

3 If we reprove some hateful lie,
They scorn our faithful word!
"Are not our lips our own," they cry,
"And who shall be our Lord?"

4 Scoffers appear on every side,
Where a vile race of men

Is raised to seats of power and pride,
And bears the sword in vain.
5 Lord, when iniquities abound,
And blasphemy grows bold,
When faith is rarely to be found,
And love is waxing cold,

6 Is not thy chariot hastening on?
Hast thou not given the sign?
May we not trust and live

A promise so divine?

upon

7 "Yes," saith the Lord, "now will I rise, And make th' oppressors flee;

I shall appear to their surprise,

And set my servants free."

8 Thy word, like silver seven times tried,
Through ages shall endure;
The men that in thy truth confide
Shall find thy promise sure.
PSALM 13. C. M.

How long wilt thou conceal thy face?
My God, how long delay?

When shall I feel those heavenly rays

That chase fears away?

my

2 How long shall my poor labouring soul
Wrestle and toil in vain?

Thy word can all my foes control,
And ease my raging pain.

3 See how the prince of darkness tries
All his malicious arts;

He spreads a mist around my eyes,
And throws his fiery darts.

4 Be thou my sun, and thou my shield,
My soul in safety keep;

Make haste before mine eyes are sealed
In death's eternal sleep.

5 How would the tempter boast aloud
Should I become his prey!
Behold the sons of hell grow proud
To see thy long delay.

6 But they shall flee at thy rebuke,
And Satan hide his head;
He knows the terrors of thy look,
And hears thy voice with dread.
7 Thou wilt display thy sovereign grace,
Whence all my comforts spring;
I shall employ my lips in praise,
And thy salvation sing.

PSALM 14. C. M.

FOOLS in their hearts believe and say,

That all religion 's vain,
"There is no God that reigns on high,
Or minds th' affairs of men."

2 From thoughts so dreadful and profane Corrupt discourse proceeds;

And in their impious hands are found
Abominable deeds.

3 The Lord from his celestial throne,
Looked down on things below,
To find the man that sought his grace,
Or did his justice know.