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CXXIV.
WAREHAM.

L. M.
HAD not the Lord, may Israel say,
Had not the Lord his aid supplied,
When those, who sought us for a prey,
Rose like the ocean's swelling tide ;
The angry waters that assail'd,
Had fiercely rag'd beyond control;
Their rising billows had prevail'd;
The floods had overwhelm'd our soul.
But prais'd for ever be the Lord,
Who made our souls his gracious care;
He did his timely help afford,
And broke the wily fowler's snare.
Our help is in Jehovah's name,
Who form’d the earth, and built the sky;
He that upholds their wond'rous frame,
His people guards with watchful eye.

CXXV.
BRUNSWICK.

L. M.
THOSE who with holy confidence
Trust on the Lord for their defence,
Secur'd by his protecting hand
Shall stedfast as Mount Zion stand.
And as the mighty hills surround
Majestic Salem's hallow'd ground;
So round his people widely spread,
Shall God his guardian influence shed.
Far from that people shall he still
Remove the dangerous powers of ill;
Lest they infect his favour'd race,
And turn them from the paths of grace.
That God whose law is virtue's guide,
Will humble all the sons of pride ;
And fill alone the righteous breast
With Israel's joy and Israel's rest.

CXXVI.
CHELSEA.

D. c. M.
WHEN Sion's bondage God turn'd back,

As men that dream'd were we.
Then fill'd with laughter was our mouth,

Our tongue with melody :
They 'mong the heathen said, the Lord

Great things for them hath wrought.
The Lord hath done great things for us,

Whence joy to us is brought.

As streams of water in the south,

Our bondage Lord recall.
Who sow in tears, in reaping time

Of joy enjoy they shall.
That man who bearing precious seed,

In going forth doth mourn,
He doubtless, bringing back his sheaves,

Rejoicing shall return.

CXXVII.

ST. MARY's.

c. M.

WE build with fruitless cost, unless

The Lord the pile sustain;
Unless the Lord the city keep

The watchpian wakes in vain.

In vain we rise before the day,

And late to rest repair,
Allow no respite to our toil,

And eat the bread of care.

Supplies of life, with ease to them,

He on his saints bestows;
He crowns their labour with success,

Their nights with sound repose.

CXXVIII.
WILTSHIRE.

C. M.
HOW blest the man, whose heart is fill’d

With holy zeal and awe ;
Whose lips to God their tribute yield;

Whose life adorns his law.
The Lord in mercy near him stands,

To guard his favor'd head;
And on the labour of his hands

Will constant blessings shed.
He, by the God of Jacob blest,

Through length of days shall see
His children's children, Sion's rest,

And her prosperity.
Yea, richer mercies far than these

On him the Lord shall pour ;
Shall crown his soul with joy and peace,

And life for evermore.

CXXIX.
BATH.

C. M.
OFT from my youth, may Israel say,

Have I been sore assaiļd;
Oft have the wicked vex'd my soul,

But never yet prevail’d.
The ploughers plough'd upon my back,

And made long furrows there;
But, strong to save, the righteous Lord

Hath broke the deadly snare.
Confusion and defeat repay

The hate of Sion's foes ;
Like grass that on the house-top springs,

But withers as it grows;-
So shall their evil purpose end

In fruitless toil and shame;
Nor any wish their hopes success,

Nor bless them in God's name.

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MY soul with patience waits

For thee, the living Lord ;
My hopes are on thy promise built,

Thy never-failing word.

My longing eyes look out

For thy enliv'ning ray;
More duly than the morning watch,

To spy the dawning day.

Let Israel trust in God,

No bounds his mercy knows; The plenteous source and spring from whence

Eternal succour flows.

Whose friendly streams to us

Supplies in want convey ;
A healing spring, a spring to cleanse,

And wash our guilt away.

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CXXXI.

VIENNA.
LET thy grace, Lord, make me lowly;

Humble all my swelling pride ;
Fallen, guilty, and unholy,

Greatness from my eyes I'll hide.

Wean'd from earth's vexatious pleasures,

In thy love I'll seek for mine;
Plac'd in heaven my nobler treasures,

Earth I quietly resign.

Israel, thus the world despising,

On the Lord alone rely;
Then, from Him thy joys arising,

Like himself shall never die.

CXXXII. - WESTON FAVEL.

c. M. WITH holy reverence and joy

We to God's house repair;
Before his footstool meekly bow,

And pour the humble prayer.
Arise, O Lord, and enter now

Thy constant place of rest;
Not only with thy name be this,

But with thy presence blest.
Clothe thou thy priests with righteousness,

Make thou thy saints rejoice ;
And for thy boundless mercy's sake,

Regard thy suppliant's voice,
For Sion, God's most holy seat,

In glory doth excel;
This is the favor'd place of rest,

Where he delights to dwell!

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CXXXIII. . OXFORD.

HOW vast must their advantage be,

How great their pleasure prove,
Who live like brethren, and consent

In offices of love.
True love is like that precious oil,

Which pour'd on Aaron's head,
Ran down his beard, and o'er his robes

Its costly moisture shed.
'Tis like refreshing dew, which does

On Hermon's top distil ;
Or like the early drops that fall

On Sion's fruitful hill.
For Sion is the chosen seat,

Where the Almighty King
The promis'd blessing has ordain'd,

And life's eternal spring.

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