A translation of Sundry Psalms which were omitted in Doctor Watts's Version To which is added, a Number of hymns |
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 | A translation of Sundry Psalms which were omitted in Doctor Watts's Version |  |
Psalm XXVIII. Long Metre. God the Refuge of the Afflicted.
1
To thee, O Lord, I raise my cries;My fervent prayer in mercy hear;
For ruin waits my trembling soul,
If thou refuse a gracious ear.
2
When suppliant tow'rd thy holy hill,I lift my mournful hands to pray,
Afford thy grace, nor drive me still,
With impious hypocrites away.
3
To sons of falsehood, that despiseThe works and wonders of thy reign,
Thy vengeance gives the due reward,
And sinks their souls to endless pain.
4
But, ever blessed be the Lord,Whose mercy hears my mournful voice,
My heart, that trusted in his word,
In his salvation shall rejoice.
5
Let every saint, in sore distress,By faith approach his Saviour God;
Then grant, O Lord, thy pardoning grace,
And feed thy church with heavenly food.
Psalm XLIII. Common Metre. Safety in Divine Protection.
1
Judge me, O God, and plead my causeAgainst a sinful race;
From vile oppression and deceit
Secure me by thy grace.
2
On thee my stedfast hope depends,And am I left to mourn?
To sink in sorrows, and in vain,
Implore thy kind return?
3
Oh send thy light to guide my feet,And bid thy truth appear,
To taste thy mercies there.
4
Then to thy altar, oh my God,My joyful feet shall rise,
And my triumphant songs shall praise,
The God that rules the skies.
5
Sink not, my soul, beneath thy fear,Nor yield to weak despair;
For I shall live to praise the Lord,
And bless his guardian care.
Psalm LII. Common Metre. The disappointment of the wicked.
1
Why should the mighty make their boast,And heavenly grace despise?
In their own arm they put their trust,
And fill their mouth with lies.
2
But God in vengeance shall destroy,And drive them from his face;
No more shall they his church annoy,
Nor find on earth a place.
3
But like a cultur'd olive grove,Dress'd in immortal green,
Thy children, blooming in thy love,
Amid thy courts are seen.
4
On thine eternal grace, O Lord.Thy saints shall rest secure,
And all, who trust thy holy word,
Shall find salvation sure.
Psalm LII. Long Metre. The folly of self-dependence.
1
Why should the haughty hero boast,His vengeful arm, his warlike host,
While blood defiles his cruel hand,
And desolation wastes the land.
2
He joys to hear the captive's cry,The widow's groan, the orphan's sigh;
And when the wearied sword would spare,
His falsehood spreads the fatal snare.
3
He triumphs in the deeds of wrong,And arms with rage his impious tongue,
With pride proclaims his dreadful power,
And bids the trembling world adore
4
But God beholds, and with a frown,Casts to the dust his honours down:
The righteous freed, their hopes recal,
And hail the proud oppressor's fall.
5
How low th'insulting tyrant lies,Who dared th'eternrl Power despise;
And vainly deem'd with envious joy,
His arm almighty to destroy.
6
We praise the Lord, who heard our cries,And sent salvation from the skies;
The saints, who saw our mournful days,
Shall join our grateful songs of praise.
Psalm LIV. Common Metre.
1
Behold us, Lord, and let our cryBefore thy throne ascend,
Cast thou on us a pitying eye,
And still our lives defend.
2
For slaughtering foes insult us round,Oppressive, proud and vain,
They cast thy temples to the ground,
And all our rites prophane.
3
Yet thy forgiving grace we trust,And in thy power rejoice;
Thine arm shall crush our foes to dust,
Thy praise inspire our voice.
4
Be thou with those whose friendly hand,Upheld us in distress,
Extend thy truth through every land,
And still thy people bless.
Psalm LIX. Short Metre. Prayer for national deliverance.
1
From foes, that round us rise,O God of heaven, defend,
Who brave the vengeance of the skies,
And with thy saints contend.
2
Behold, from distant shores,And desert wilds they come,
Combine for blood their barbarous force,
And through thy cities roam.
3
Beneath the silent shade,Their secret plots they lay,
Our peaceful walls by night invade,
And waste the fields by day.
4
And will the God of grace,Regardless of our pain.
Permit secure that impious race,
To riot in their reign?
5
In vain their secret guile,Or open force they prove;
His eye can pierce the deepest veil,
His hand their strength remove.
6
Yet save them, Lord, from death,Lest we forget their doom;
But drive them with thine angry breath,
Through distant lands to roam.
7
Then shall our grateful voiceProclaim our guardian God;
The nations round the earth rejoice,
And sound the praise abroad.
Psalm LXX. Common Metre. Protection against Personal Enemies.
1
In haste, O God, attend my call,Nor hear my cries in vain;
Oh let thy speed prevent my fall,
And still my hope sustain.
2
When foes insidious wound my name,And tempt my soul astray,
Then let them fall with lasting shame,
To their own plots a prey.
3
While all that love thy name rejoice,And glory in thy word,
In thy salvation raise their voice,
And magnify the Lord.
4
O thou my help in time of need,Behold my sore dismay;
In pity hasten to my aid,
Nor let thy grace delay.
Psalm LXXIX. Long Metre. For the distress of War.
1
Behold, O God, what cruel foes,Thy peaceful heritage invade;
Thy holy temple stands defil'd,
In dust thy sacred walls are laid.
2
Wide o'er the vallies, drench'd in blood,Thy people fall'n in death remain;
The fowls of heaven their flesh devour,
And savage beasts divide the slain.
3
Th'insulting foes, with impious rage,Reproach thy children to their face;
“Where is your God of boasted power,
“And where the promise of his grace.”
4
Deep from the prison's horrid glooms,Oh hear the mournful captives sigh,
And let thy sovereign power reprieve,
The trembling souls condemn'd to die.
Psalm LXXXVIII. As the 113th. Loss of Friends, and absence of Divine Grace.
1
O God of my salvation, hearMy nightly groan, my daily prayer,
That still employ my wasting breath;
My soul, declining to the grave,
From dark despair and lasting death.
2
Thy wrath lies heavy on my soul,And waves of sorrows o'er me roll,
While dust and silence spread the gloom
My friends, belov'd in happier days,
The dear companions of my ways,
Descend around me to the tomb.
3
As, lost in lonely grief, I treadThe mournful mansions of the dead,
Or to some throng'd assembly go;
Through all alike I rove alone,
While, here forgot and there unknown,
The change renews my piercing woe.
4
And why will God neglect my call?Or who shall profit by my fall,
When life departs and love expires?
Can dust and darkness praise the Lord?
Or wake, or brighten at his word,
And tune the harp with heavenly quires.
3
Yet thro' each melancholy day,I've pray'd to thee, and still will pray,
Imploring still thy kind return.—
But oh! my friends, my comforts, fled,
And all my kindred of the dead
Recall my wandering thoughts to mourn.
Psalm CVIII. Common Metre. A Song of Praise.
1
Awake, my soul, to sound his praise,Awake my harp to sing;
Join all my powers the song to raise,
And morning incense bring.
2
Among the people of his care,And thro' the nations round;
Glad songs of praise will I prepare,
And there his name resound.
3
Be thou exalted, O my God,Above the starry train;
Diffuse thy heavenly grace abroad,
And teach the world thy reign.
4
So shall thy chosen sons rejoice,And throng thy courts above;
While sinners hear thy pardoning voice,
And taste redeeming love.
Psalm CXXXVII. The Babylonian Captivity.
1
Along the banks where Babel's current flows,Our captive bands in deep dispondence stray'd,
While Zion's fall in sad remembrance rose,
Her friends, her children mingled with the dead.
2
The tuneless harp, that once with joy we strung.When praise employ'd and mirth inspir'd the lay,
In mournful silence on the willows hung;
And growing grief prolong'd the tedious day.
3
The barbarous tyrants, to increase the woe,With taunting smiles a song of Zion claim;
Bid sacred praise in strains melodious flow,
While they blaspheme the great Jehovah's name.
4
But how, in heathen chains and lands unknown,Shall Israel's sons, a song of Zion raise?
O hapless Salem, God's terrestial throne,
Thou land of glory, sacred mount of praise.
5
If e'er my memory lose thy lovely name,If my cold heart neglect my kindred race,
Let dire destruction sieze this guilty frame;
My hand shall perish and my voice shall cease.
6
Yet shall the Lord, who hears when Zion calls,O'ertake her foes with terror and dismay,
His arm avenge her desolated walls,
And raise her children to eternal day.
Psalm CXL. Common Metre.
1
Protect us, Lord, from fatal harm;Behold our rising woes;
We trust alone thy powerful arm,
To scatter all our foes.
2
Their tongue is like a poison'd dart,Their thoughts are full of guile,
While rage and carnage swell their heart,
They wear a peaceful smile.
3
O God of grace, thy guardian care,When foes without invade,
Or spread within a deeper snare,
Supplies our constant aid.
4
Let falshood flee before thy face,Thy heavenly truth extend,
All nations taste thy heavenly grace,
And all delusion end.
5
With daily bread the poor supply,The cause of justice plead,
And be thy church exalted high,
With Christ the glorious head.
| A translation of Sundry Psalms which were omitted in Doctor Watts's Version | |