“ But I will bring your crimes to light,

“ With anguish in your soul.”
8 Consider, ye, that slight the Lord,

Before his wrath appear ;
If once you fall beneath his sword,
There's no deliv’rer there.
PSALM 50. Third Part. L. M.

Hypocrisy warned. | TH

HE Lord, the Judge, his churches warns:

Let hypocrites attend and fear,
Who place their hope in rights and forms;

But make not faith nor love their care. 2 Vile wretches dare rehearse his name

With lips of falsehood and deceit;
A friend or brother they defame,

And sooth and flatter those they hate. 3 They watch to do their neighbours wrong,

Yet dare to seek their Maker's face;
They take his cov’nant on their tongue,

But break his laws, abuse his grace.
4 To heay’n they lift their hands unclean,

Defil'd with lust, defil'd with blood :
By night they practise ev'ry sin,
By day their mouths draw near to God.
5 And, while his judgments long delay,

They grow secure, and sin the more :
They think he sleeps as well as they,

And put far off the dreadful hour. 6 Oh dreadful hour! when God draws near,

And sets their crimes before their eyes :
His wrath their guilty souls shall tear,
And no deliv'rer dare to rise.

PSALM 50. Fourth Part. P. M.

The last judgment. 1 THE THE God of glory sends his summons

forth, Calls the south nations and awakes the north : From east to west the sov’reign orders spread, Thro’ distant worlds and regions of the dead. The trumpet sounds ; hell trembles ; heav'n rejoices ;

[voices. Lift up your heads, ye saints, with cheerful 2 No more shall atheists mock his long delay ; His vengeance sleeps no more : behold the day !

[nigh; Behold the Judge descends ! his guards are Tempests and fire attend him down the sky. When God appears, all nature shall adore him:

While sinnerstremble, saintsrejoice before him, 3 Sinners awake betimes; ye fools, be wise ;

Awake before this dreadful morning rise : Change your vain thoughts, your crooked works amend,

[friend : Fly to the Saviour, make the Judge your Then join, ye saints ; wake ev'ry cheerful passion,

[vation. When Christ returns, he comes for your salPSALM 51, First Part. L. M.

A penitent pleading for pardon.
1
SHOW pity, Lord, a Lord, forgive,

Let a repenting rebel live;
Are not thy mercies large and free?

May not a sinner trust in thee?
2 My crimes are great, but don't surpass

The pow'r and glory of thy grace :
Great God, thy nature hath no bound;
So let thy pard’ning love be found.

30! wash my soul from ev'ry sin,

And make my guilty conscience clean :
Here on my heart the burden lies,

And past offences pain mine eyes.
4 My lips with shame my sins confess

Against thy law, against thy grace :
Lord, should thy judgment grow severe,

I am condemn'd, but thou art clear. 5 Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord,

Whose hope still hov’ring round thy word,
Would light on some sweet promise there;
Some sure support against despair.
PSALM 51. Second Part. L. M.

Original and actual sins confessed.
1
LORD, I am vile, conceiv'd in sin,

And born unholy and unelean :
Sprung from the man, whose guilty fall

Corrups his race, and taints us all. 2 Soon as we draw our infant breath,

The seeds of sin grow up for death :
Thy law demands a perfect heart;

But we're defil'd in ev'ry part.
3 Great God, create my heart anew,

And form my spirit pure and true;
O! make me wise betimes, to see

My danger and my remedy.
4. Behold! I fall before thy face ;

My only refuge is thy grace :
No outward forms can make me clean.

The leprosy lies deep within.
5 No bleeding bird, nor bleeding beast;

Nor hyssop branchnor sprinkling priest :
Nor running brook, nor flood, nor sea,
Can wash the dismal stain away.

6 Jesus, my God, thy blood alone

Hath pow'r sufficient to atone :
Thy blond can make me white as snow;

No Jewish types could cleanse me so. 7 While guilt disturbs and breaks my peace,

Nor flesh nor soul hath rest or ease :
Lord, let me hear thy pard’ning voice,
And make my broken bones rejoice.

PSALM 51. Third Part. L. M.

Répentance and faith in the blood of Christ. 10 THOU, that hear’st when sinners

cry, Tho' all my crimes before thee lie, Avert from them thy angry look,

And blot their mem’ry from thy book. 2 Create my nature pure within, And form

my

soul averse to sin ; Let thy good spirit ne'er depart,

Nor hide thy presence from my heart. 3 I cannot live without thy light,

Cast out and banish'd from thy sight :
Thy holy joys, my God, restore,

And guard me, that I fall no more.
4 Tho' I have griev'd thy spirit, Lord,

His help and comfort still afford :
And let a wretch come near thy throne,
"To plead the merits of thy Son.
5 A broken heart, my God, my King,

Is all the sacrifice I bring :
The God of grace will ne'er despise

A broken heart for sacrifice.
6 My soul lies humbled in the dust,

And owns thy dreadful sentence just :
Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye,
And save the soul condemn'd to die.

7 Then will I teach the world thy ways:

Sinners shall learn thy sov’reign grace ;
I'll lead them to my Saviour's blood,

, And they shall praise a pard’ning God. 8 O! may thy love inspire my tongue;

Salvation shall be all my song:
And all my pow’rs shall join to bless
The Lord, my strength and righteousness.

PSALM 52. First Part. L. M.

The destruction of tyrants and persecutors. 1 WHY

CHY should the haughty tyrant 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 weary 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 pow'r,

And bids the trembling world adore. 4 But God is good, and with a frown,

Casts to the dust his honours down :
The righteous, freed, their hopes recall,

And hail the proud oppressor's fall. 5 How low the persecutor lies,

Who dar'd th eternal pow'r despise ;
And vainly strove, with impious joy,

The church and nation 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.

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