A New Version of the Psalms of David Fitted to the Tunes used in Churches. By Sir Richard Blackmore |
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 | XIX. |
| XX. |
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| XXV. |
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| XXVII. |
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| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
Psalm XXXI.
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| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
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| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
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| LXV. |
| LXVI. |
| LXVII. |
| LXVIII. |
| LXIX. |
| LXX. |
| LXXI. |
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| LXXIII. |
| LXXIV. |
| LXXV. |
| LXXVI. |
| LXXVII. |
| LXXVIII. |
| LXXIX. |
| LXXX. |
| LXXXI. |
| LXXXII. |
| LXXXIII. |
| LXXXIV. |
| LXXXV. |
| LXXXVI. |
| LXXXVII. |
| LXXXVIII. |
| LXXXIX. |
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| XCI. |
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| XCV. |
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| CIII. |
| CIV. |
| CV. |
| CVI. |
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| CIX. |
| CX. |
| CXI. |
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| CXIII. |
| CXIV. |
| CXV. |
| CXVI. |
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| CXVII. |
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| CXIX. |
| CXX. |
| CXXI. |
| CXXII. |
| CXXIII. |
| CXXIV. |
| CXXV. |
| CXXVI. |
| CXXVII. |
| CXXVIII. |
| CXXIX. |
| CXXX. |
| CXXXI. |
| CXXXII. |
| CXXXIII. |
| CXXXIV. |
| CXXXV. |
| CXXXVI. |
| CXXXVII. |
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| CXXXIX. |
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| CXLI. |
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| CXLIV. |
| CXLV. |
| CXLVI. |
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| CXLVIII. |
| CXLIX. |
| CL. |
 | A New Version of the Psalms of David |  |
Psalm XXXI.
Thou art my Trust in my Distress,
From Shame deliver me:
Jehovah, in thy Righteousness,
From Trouble set me free.
Bow down thine Ear, my Cause espouse,
And save me, Lord, with Speed:
Be Thou my Rock of Strength, an House
For Safety, which I need.
From Shame deliver me:
Jehovah, in thy Righteousness,
From Trouble set me free.
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And save me, Lord, with Speed:
Be Thou my Rock of Strength, an House
For Safety, which I need.
In Thee, my Rock, I still confide,
I Thee my Fortress make;
Thou, Lord, wilt me direct and guide
For thy own Glory's Sake.
To free me from their secret Net,
Lord, make a kind Effort,
And let their Toyl in vain be set,
For Thou art my Support.
I Thee my Fortress make;
Thou, Lord, wilt me direct and guide
For thy own Glory's Sake.
To free me from their secret Net,
Lord, make a kind Effort,
And let their Toyl in vain be set,
For Thou art my Support.
Part II.
Joy in thy Mercy, which I own,
And Gladness I'll express;
For Thou hast me in Trouble known,
And sav'd me in Distress.
He has not left me in their Hands,
But me from Foes discharg'd;
He sav'd my Life from threat'ning Bands,
My streighten'd Feet inlarg'd.
And Gladness I'll express;
For Thou hast me in Trouble known,
And sav'd me in Distress.
He has not left me in their Hands,
But me from Foes discharg'd;
He sav'd my Life from threat'ning Bands,
My streighten'd Feet inlarg'd.
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To me distress'd, Lord, Mercy show;
My Eyes are Grief's Repast;
My Soul is overwhelm'd with Woe,
With Pain my Bowels waste.
My Life in Groans and Sighs is spent,
My troubled Spirits fail:
My Bones are dry'd, my Nerves unbent,
Whilst I my Sins bewail.
My Eyes are Grief's Repast;
My Soul is overwhelm'd with Woe,
With Pain my Bowels waste.
My Life in Groans and Sighs is spent,
My troubled Spirits fail:
My Bones are dry'd, my Nerves unbent,
Whilst I my Sins bewail.
By Foes and Neighbours I was scorn'd,
Fear my Acquaintance seiz'd;
Those whom I met, of Danger warn'd,
Fled at my Sight displeas'd.
I like the Dead am no Man's Care,
But wholly out of Mind;
And as the Potter's broken Ware,
Scorn and Dishonour find.
Fear my Acquaintance seiz'd;
Those whom I met, of Danger warn'd,
Fled at my Sight displeas'd.
I like the Dead am no Man's Care,
But wholly out of Mind;
And as the Potter's broken Ware,
Scorn and Dishonour find.
Part III.
But Trust in Thee Submission bred,
Ev'n when I felt thy Rod,
And conscious of thy Truth I said,
O Lord, Thou art my God.
My number'd Times are in thy Hand;
Me from my Foes defend,
The hateful persecuting Band,
Who Violence intend.
Ev'n when I felt thy Rod,
And conscious of thy Truth I said,
O Lord, Thou art my God.
My number'd Times are in thy Hand;
Me from my Foes defend,
The hateful persecuting Band,
Who Violence intend.
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Lord, in Compassion, make thy Face
On me thy Servant shine;
To save me from the wicked Race,
Let Mercy Thee incline.
Lord, let me not be cloath'd with Shame,
Whose Cries thy Pity crave,
Confound th' Unjust, who hate thy Name,
And doom them to the Grave.
On me thy Servant shine;
To save me from the wicked Race,
Let Mercy Thee incline.
Lord, let me not be cloath'd with Shame,
Whose Cries thy Pity crave,
Confound th' Unjust, who hate thy Name,
And doom them to the Grave.
Part IV.
Thy Goodness, Lord, surpasses Thought,
Stor'd safely for the Just,
Or for their Sakes in Publick wrought,
Who place in Thee their Trust.
Thou shalt in Secret from the Pride
Of Man defend their Life;
And them in thy Pavilion hide,
From Tongues engag'd in Strife.
Stor'd safely for the Just,
Or for their Sakes in Publick wrought,
Who place in Thee their Trust.
Thou shalt in Secret from the Pride
Of Man defend their Life;
And them in thy Pavilion hide,
From Tongues engag'd in Strife.
Bless'd be the Lord, for he has shown
He's wond'rous Good and Kind;
He succour'd me, when in a Town
Of strong Defence confin'd.
Rush in my hasty Flight I cry'd,
I'm cut off from thy Care,
Yee to my Voice the Lord reply'd,
And heard my earnest Pray'r.
He's wond'rous Good and Kind;
He succour'd me, when in a Town
Of strong Defence confin'd.
Rush in my hasty Flight I cry'd,
I'm cut off from thy Care,
Yee to my Voice the Lord reply'd,
And heard my earnest Pray'r.
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| A New Version of the Psalms of David | |