SOME Select PSALMS OF DAVID Turned anew into Metre, And Suited to the common Tunes Sung in Parish-Churches: With a Divine Pindaric Ode On the Redemption of Man. By Charles Wormington, Gent. Dublin, Printed for Matthew Gunn at the Bible and Crown near Essex-Gate, 1697. TO THE READER. AMidst the bold Attempts of those who try To give the Psalms new Turns of Poetry I, in the Lists, thus venture to rush in; Not that I think I shall the Laurel win; Or, in the Front with others, Equal show, (For ah! too well my want of Skill I know) But with the Brave, to manifest my Zeal, And best Affections for Wit's Common-Weal; T' oppose at once my Pen, and tempt my Fate, With Learned Patrick, Stern, and artful Tate, Against th' united Force of those who try T' invade its Province with lose Ribaldry. Where, while some lofty, some too humble be, The middle Flight shall be observed by me, Lest should the Fancy, soaring it too high, Be undiscerned by every Vulgar Eye; Or, by too feebly striking on the Ground, In its bright native Beauties sullied found. To raise Devotion then shall be my Aim; Nor can I want Expression from the Theme, Whereby each treated Palate may be pleased; If not too dull, or yet too nicely raised; Nor grossly prejudiced, by tasting long The fulsome Mixtures of Lampoon and Song. For how alas! are all Things now cried down, That are not luscious made to suit the Town; Where no lose smutty Jests in view are placed, To quicken and monopolise the Taste: For (like the French) though ne'er so rich or new, 'Tis not allowed a Feast without Ragoo. Yet in each Draught should I so fail of Art, As not t' affect the Soul, engage the Heart; To mount them Heaven-ward, with Devotion fired, From whence our Royal Prophet was inspired, (As well I may suspect myself I shall) Who can keep up to the Original? For 'tis a Work so exquisitely fine, None e'er can reach it but a Pen Divine. Some Paraphrase I'll use, but such as may Not run too far the Saored Text astray: For such are the stiff Laws of peevish Rhyme, We must obey, tho' against Sense a Crime. Each Art and Science has it proper Dress; Nor must Majestic Poetry have less: Soft Turns, illustrious Epithets, and Strains of State, With crowding Fancies, suitable and great, Are what on its Triumphant Measures wait▪ But here, my Muse, in a less awful Style, From such bright Modes of Pomp, retires a while; She humbly shuns that Lustre they would give; Nor stands she now on her Prerogative: In plain and easy Terms, She essays to prove Her highest value for the Vulgar's Love, And fix their thoughts on nobler things above Where if I find Success attends her Art, And by her Charms she ' has gained to Heaven their Heart, I shall not then repent me what I've done, But wish in the Good Work, I'd farther gone. Psalms. 1 5 6 15 30 32 38 42 51 67 82 90 95 100 102 116 130 133 134 137 141 143 145 150 Select PSALMS. Psalm I. Blessed is the Man that is not led By such as Wicked are; Nor stands in Sin confirmed, or hath Possessed the Scorners Chair. But in th' Almighty's Laws Divine Hath placed his sole Delight; Whereon his grave religious Thoughts Are fixed both Day and Night. He shall be like that Tree which does, By a sresh Stream appear; whose Branche●, pressed with clustered Fruit, Still crown the smiling Year. Whose Leaf, whose fair delightful Shade Shall ever verdant last; And thus on whatsoever Heaven smiles, Shall no Misfortunes blast. But such is not their prosperous State Who have their God declined; They, but as empty Chaff, appear, That's scattered by the Wind. Whose Courage, when to Judgement called, Shall fail, when they have found They are at length those Joys deprived, Where with the Just are Crowned. For on the Righteous are, O Lord, Thy Eyes still fixed with Care; Whilst Sinners perish in their Course, Are plunged into Despair. Psalm V. To my Complaints, Almighty Lord, Incline thy ever-gracious Ear; For unto thee my King! my God I humbly will direct my Prayer. In her Devotions even shall My active Soul still early be; And unto none for help look up, Or supplicate on Earth but Thee. For Thou, bright God art ever pure; Nor dost in wickedness delight; Neither shall any Evil long Continue to offend thy sight. The foolish and the giddy Thou Shalt from thy glorious Presence drive; Nor suffer those before Thee Stand, Who mischief in their Hearts contrive. On those shall thy sharp Judgements fall, Who pleasure take in spreading Lies; Nor even they escape, just Lord! Who bloody Stratagems devise. But as for me, I'll now, O God, To thy bright holy Courts repair; And with a thankful Heart aloud, Thy everlasting Love declare. Be therefore Thou, O Lord, my Guide, Lest peradventure I should stray; And to my Foes occasion give T'entrap me in my ' ungarded Way. For there's no Faith alas! in those, Whose wicked Hearts conceive a Wrong; Who, though their Lips be smooth as Oil, Have yet a Poison in their Tongue. But Thou, O righteous Judge! shalt soon Them in their Villainies surprise; And unto Condemnation bring, Who in Rebellion 'gainst thee rise. Whilst They, who in thy Mercy Trust, To Thee their grateful Hearts shall raise; And for the Kindness Thou hast shown, In Triumph celebrate thy Praise. For on the Righteous, thy own Lot, Shall, Lord, thy Blessings still descend; Whom with thy Favour, and thy Love, Thou dost as with a shield defend. Psalm VI Being the First of the Penitential Ones. Correct me not in Anger, Lord, Tho Chastisements are due; Nor in thy fiercest Wrath too far My hateful Crimes pursue. But here (while pressed beneath thy Hand, Thus weakened with my Groans) O let thy Love those Pains allay, Which run through all my Bones. My Soul alas! with dread is struck, Of what's already passed; How long will therefore, mighty Lord! Thy raging Fury last? O turn Thee, turn Thee, Thou that art My Soul's offended God; And for thy Mercies sake lay by Thy sharp afflicting Rod. For lo! in the forgetful Grave, where all things silent be, who can, dread Lord! thy Praises sing, Or once remember Thee. Through constant Mourning, Lord, behold! My Body feeble wears; In Sighs it with the Day consumes; At Night dissolves in Tears. Though Grief my wont Beauty fades; Thus wasted is my State, Occasioned even now by those Who my Destruction wait. But hence, mistaken Sinners! hence, The Lord regards my Cries; And to my humble Suit at length His gracious Ear applies. Psalm XV. Who is, O Lord, the Man that shall Within thy Courts abide; Or on thy ever-sacred Mount, With thy blessed Saints reside. Even He whose Ways are uncorrupt, Whose Feet uprightly tread; Nor is, through Fear to speak the Truth. Against his Conscience led. Who hath not acted with Deceit, Or done his Neighbour wrong; Nor vile Detraction e'er hath made Th' Employment of his Tongue. Who such, as in their Sins persist, Contemns, and only those, Who fear the Lord, and act what's just, Respect and Honour shows, Who ne'er equivocates, or does Of Falsities allow; Nor yet, tho' to his Loss it proves, e'er violates his Vow. Who sets not out to sordid Use What e'er he lends the Poor; Nor to commit Things base, is One Whom glittering Bribes allure. This is, O Lord, that happy Man Who on thy Hill shall rest; Unshaken through thy Favour stand, Shall be for ever blest. Psalm. XXX. IN Thy eternal Praise, shall, Lord, My Soul lift up her voice; Who o'er me hast not made my Foes In Triumph to rejoice. When in Distress on thee I called, Thy Mercy did not sail; But, as a kind Physician, Thou Didst my Distempers heal. Thy Love it was alone, which me For happier Ends reserved; And from the dark forgetful Grave My sinking Soul preserved. Sing then unto the Lord ye Saints, In Hymns your Loves express; And let it in Remembrance be, Of his bright Holiness. Whose Frowns are of so short a date, We scarce his Kindness miss; And in whose Favour lies contained The Soul's eternal Bliss. Tho' Sorrow for a Night may last, And we afflicted mourn; Yet soon with the next Morning's Light. Our absent Joys return. When in Prosperity I lived, Enjoyed my worldly All; Thus I, o Lord, began to boast, That I should never fall. But ah! as soon as Thou withdrew, Thy Favours didst revoke; I to my Cost was then convinced How foolishly I spoke. But lo! to Thee, my slighted God, I flew for timely Aid; And thus before thy Majesty, My Case right humbly laid. " What Profit is there in my Blood, Should it thy Wrath appease? " How shall the Dust, most mighty Lord! Thy Excellency's Praise? " In Mercy to my fervent Suit, Bow down thy gracious Ear; " Be Thou alone my blessed Support, Remove my present Fear. Then into new Delights were all My gloomy Sorrows turned; And thou, my God, being reconciled, My Soul no longer mourned. Psalm XXXII. Being the Second of the Penitential Ones. Blessed is, O Lord, that Man whom Zhou Beholdest from above; Whose Faults thy Justice have escaped, Are covered by thy Love. For surely now, as suely, we may That happy Person Style; To whom the Lord imputes no Sin, In whom there is no Guile. When I, though conscious of my Gild, Had not my Crimes confessed: How strongly was, O Lord, my Mind With Terrors than possessed? So hot was, Lord, thine Anger which My Sins did then inflame; That soon, like Earth in Summer parched, My wasted Flesh became. But when before Thee I appeared, A just Confession made; How ready wert Thou to forgive, And was thy Wrath allayed! Thus shall each speedy Penitent, Who does his Sins forsake, Thy timely Mercy find, nor shall The Floods his Soul o'ertake. For Thou, great God from threatening Ills Art still a sure Defence; Whom therefore in my Songs I'll praise For my Deliverance. You who to Happiness would steer, Come now and learn of me; I will direct you in your Course, Your skilful Pilot be. O be not therefore as a Mule, Or like an untamed Horse; Whose headstrong Tempers will not brook The Curb of Reason's Force. For such, just Lord! Thy strokes shall feel, Who are so brutish found; But they, who Thee obey, shall be With thy chief Blessings crowned. Rejoice ye then who fear the Lord, In Triumph praise his Name; And let such Exultations still Your fervent Loves proclaim. Psalm XXXVIII. Being the Third of the Penitential Ones. O Do not Thou in Anger, Lord, Too far my heinous Sins pursue; Nor on me in thy Wrath inflict Those sharper Judgements that are due. For in me lo! Thine Arrows stick, Through wilful Breach of Thy Command; That almost crushed to Death I lie Beneath the Pressure of thy Hand. No Soundness in my Flesh appears, Such hath thy late Displeasure been; Nor even Rest unto my Bones, By reason of my raging Sin. So numerous are alas! my Crimes, So dreadful is my present Fear; That sunk beneath them, Lord, I can Their heavy weight no longer bear. Corrupt and stinking are my Wounds; Thus for my Wickedness I pay: And thus in Trouble I am brought, As one in Mourning spend the Day. Nor here determinate my Griefs, Raised, Lord, by thy correcting Hand; My Friends even eat me as a Plague, And at a distance gazing stand. But lo! as one that's deaf I'appear; As silent too, as one that's dumb, I open not, O Lord, my mouth, Or chafe when e'er my Sorrows come. For yet in Thee remains my Trust; On whom with Patience I thus wait: And sure I am, Thou, Lord, wilt hear The Cries of my afflicted State. Haste then, Good God unto my Aid, My weak and needy State look on; For Thou alone art my Support! My Comfort! my Salvation! Psalm XLII. AS the chased Hart with eager Thirst Would at the Waters be; With such Desire, o Lord, inflamed, My Soul pants after Thee. For Thee, even doth, bright God my Soul With fervent Passion burn; Expecting when to thy loved Courts, I shall again return. My Tears are but my thin Repasts, While Men thus me upbraid; And in a Scoff cry, where's thy God? where's now thy boasted Aid? For, Lord, unbounded are my Griefs, To think on those blessed Days, When thronged, I to the Temple went To celebrate thy Praise. But why art thou so sad, my Soul! And are thy Joys allayed? O! why is now, my better Part, Become at length dismayed? God still is thy Support, in whom Fail not thy Trust to place; For lo! his Name thou yet shalt praise, For his Returns of Grace. Psalm Li. Being the Fourth of the Penitential Ones. IN Mercy here, do Thou, o God, My guilty State survey; And of thy neverfailing Love, Wipe all my Sins away. O! wash my vile polluted Soul from each offensive Stain; That ●n thy Presence, Lord, it may Appear for ever clean. To Thee, ah! my offended God I will my Crimes confess: Who▪ Day and Night still haunted am, With my foul Wickedness. Thee only have I sinned against, Even I, who am but Dust, And should I be condemned, yet Thou Remainest for ever just. Of Sin, behold, o Lord! I am A wretched Compound made; In Sin my Mother brought me forth, In Sin I was conceived. Whilst Thee in nothing better pleased, O righteous God we find, Than in Man's inward Purity, His Uprightness of Mind. But when with Hyssop once I'm purged, I shall unspotten show; Correct in all my inner Parts, And be more white than Snow. With joys possessed shall then my Soul, Resume her tuneful Voice; And even all my shattered Bones, In God their Strength Rejoice. Psalm LXVII. BLess (we beseech Thee) Gracious Lord! The People who be thine; And through their gloomy Nature let Thy radiant Beauty shine. That all the rude and untaught World, Where such thy Mercies flow, May, through the Brightness of thy Face, Their great Salvation know. To Thee, aloud let Mankind, Lord, Their holy joys proclaim; And in exalted Hymns of Praise Set forth thy Glorious Name. O let the Nations, touched with Love, Thy lasting Goodness Sing; Who art their Righteous Governor! Their Lord! their mighty King! To Thee aloud, let mankind, Lord, Their holy Joys proclaim; And in exalted Hymns of Praise Set forth thy glorious Name. Then shall, o then, the teeming Earth Be crowned with lasting Peace; And, of those Blessings Thou hast sown, Send forth a large Increase. Thus Thou, with Blessings, us shalt bless, Thy Majesty declare; Whilst the astonished world, Great God Thy ' Almightiness shall fear. Psalm LXVII. Another Metre. BLess (we beseech Thee) Lord, The People who be Thine; And through their gloomy Nature let Thy radiant Beauty shine. That all the untaught world, Where such thy Mercies flow, May through the Brightness of thy Face, Their great salvation know. To Thee, let mankind, Lord, Their holy joys proclaim? And in exalted Hymns of Praise Set forth thy glorious Name. Let Nations, touched with Love, Thy lasting Goodness sing; Who art their righteous Governor! Their Lord! their mighty King! To Thee, let mankind, Lord, Their holy Joys proclaim; And in exalted Hymns of Praise Set forth thy glorious Name. Then shall the teeming Earth Be crowned with lasting Peace; And of those Blessings Thou hast sown, Send forth a large Increase. Thus, Lord, Thou us shalt bless, Thy Majesty declare, Whilst the astonished World, Great God Thy ' Almightiness shall fear. Psalm LXXXII. LO! O ye Judges of the Earth, Ye Pillars of the Land, God does with an inspecting Eye, Amidst your Counsels stand! Why, therefore dare ye in his Sight, Neglect what's just to do; And only to the Rich, the Great, Your partial Favours show? You in whose Hands the Scales are placed, On Seats of Justice sit; Should with unbyass'd Minds still act in the Defence of it. But ah! where Gain and Inter'st meet, Are in the Balance laid; How are the Earth's Foundations shook! How light is Justice made! 'Tis true, I've said ye appear as Gods, But know, that ye shall all Like Peasants, undistinguished, die, Shall with the Sinful fall. Rise then, Great Judge of Heaven and Earth! And let thy Power be known; That Thou may'st Mankind vindicate, Who are by right thy own. Psalm XC. THou hast, O God, our Refuge been, Our wont Place of Rest; In whom we have Protection found, By whom we have been blest. For of eternal Date Thou wert With Majesty arrayed, yet the Mountains were brought forth, Or the round World was made. Most just, o Lord, are thy Decrees, And therefore lo! we must, When Thou art pleased to speak the Word, Return again to Dust. For ah! what are a thousand Years, When measured by thine Eye: They all are but as Yesterday; As swift as Thought they fly. Thus, when by Thee we be scattered, Lord, Even like a Dream we pass; Appearing in the Morning fresh, At Noon like withered Grass. This, Lord, is our uncertain State, Through thy consuming Ire; Who justly for our Sins are plagued, And suddenly expire. For to thy Sight, still Lord exposed, Our wickednesses lie; And even our most sec●e● Crimes, As Day before thine Buy. Wherefore, through thy Displeasure, Lord, Our Life more short appears; And as an empty Tale that's told, Pass off our rolling Years. To Seventy is our Age prescribed; Yet here should we below To eighty Years through Strength arrive, We then but Sorrows know. At most it is (o Lord) but short, And in a Breath gone o'er; So soon like fading Plants we fall, And then are seen no more. Psalm XCV. O Come, let's now unto the Lord, In Songs our Voices raise; For He our great Salvation is, And best deserves our Praise. Before his Presence with a Psalm, And Hearts prepared, let's go; That we in a triumphant Mirth, Our Gratitude may show. For He, th'Almighty Lord, is God, From whom all Being's spring; Who is of Powers above, below, The overruling King. Whose Hand the spacious Globe contains, Whose Sway no Limits knows; By whose Decree the Earth stands fixed, The Ocean ebbs and flows. O come and let's before him fall, Possessed with holy Fear; And that bright Majesty address, By whom alone we are. For He, th'Almighty Lord, is God, Through whom we nothing need; We are his Sheep, our Shepherd He, By whom we safely feed. If therefore you his Voice will hear, His lasting Love possess; Let not your Sins his Wrath provoke, As in the Wilderness. Where (by our Father's Crimes enraged) He did their Hopes destroy, And in his Anger swear, that they should ne'er his Rest enjoy. Psalm C. BE Joyful in the Lord, ye Lands, And, that ye now your Love may show; Let in his Presence from your Lips, Your grateful Songs of Praises flow. For know, that He the Lord, is God, By whom, not by ourselves, we're made; We are his People, and as Sheep He gently does in Pastures lead. O enter then into his Gates, Within his Courts your Joys proclaim; Be ever thankful for his Love. Extol his ever-sacred Name. For gracious is the Lord, our God, Whose Mercies everlasting prove; Who in th' eternal Circle reigns, Of never-weaning Truth and Love. Psalm CII. Being the Fifth of the Penitential Ones. O Lord unto my fervent Prayer Thy ever-gracious Ear apply: Nor from me now turn Thou thy Face, When in Distress to Thee I cry. As smoke, behold! my Days consume; My Bones are burnt even as an Hearth; Which are, O God, the dire Effects, The Marks of thy enkindled Wrath. So raging are my Griefs become, No Food my fainting Spirits cheers; Whilst lo! through want of such Support, My Heart like withered Grass appears. Behold, alas! how to my Skin, Do even cleave my aching Bones; And that by reason of my Plaints, My never-ceasing Sighs and Groans. For such is now my pensive State, Such is, O Lord, my deep Distress; I'm as the Pelican become, The Screech-Owl of the Wilderness. Or as the Sparrow on the House, I watch, and am alone all Day; While they, who are against me set, On me their vile Reproaches lay. Of Ashes is my daily Food; With Tears I mingle still my Drink; Whilst thus beneath thy Anger, Lord, My weak and drooping Spirits sink. Behold, ah! how my fleeting Time, Does as an empty Shadow pass; And even I, in nature, am No better than the fading Grass. But Thou, o God, for ever shalt In Mercy shine, and be the same; Whilst Ages yet to come, shall praise, Shall magnify thy glorious Name. Psalm CXVI. IN Thee, O God, Almighty Love! Is fixed my sole delight; Who didst not in my ●ate Distress My Supplications slight. To whom, as my Deliverer, I'll therefore not delay, But, whilst I've yet to live, proceed Still fervently to pray. When Death my ' affrighted Soul besieged, And threatened nought but Hell; 'Twas Thee, O Lord, whom I then found My Rock, my Citadel. It was on Thee alone I called, Who didst the Foe control; And from invading Miseries Thus save my sinking Soul. For, Lord! Thou ever art most just! Most merciful! and kind! And who to all a Refuge art, Who would a Refuge find. Who, to the Needy and Distressed, Art still a sure Relief; For such I found Thee, o my God When I was in my Grief. What therefore in Return shall I To my Redeemer make; Who thus of my expiring Soul Did so much Pity take. I'll Drink of that most Sacred Cup, Wherein Salvation lies; And in Return thereof give up My Heart a Sacrifice. In Presence of the People, I My holy Vows will pay; And to the Lord my Praises date, From this most happy Day. Psalm CXXX. Being the Sixth of the Penitential Ones. SUnk, Lord, beneath my Griefs, to Thee I've now sent up my Cry; Look therefore down, and to my Plaints Thy gracious Ear apply. For ah! shouldst Thou of our past Life Too strict Account demand, Who can before Thee, Lord, appear! Who can unpunished stand! But lo! in pardoning is, great God Thy Mercy still the same; That the repenting World from thence, May learn to fear thy Name. In whom let Israel therefore trust, Whose Mercies do abound; Who frees us from the Gild of Sin, Who is our Ransom found. Psalm CXXXIII. HOw pleasant is it, Lord, to see The Brethren live in Unity! 'Tis like that precious Ointment shed On thy great Sacrificer's Head; Which down the holy Robe distilled, And with rich Scents its Borders filled; Or like the kindly Dew which drops On Sion's sacred Mountain-Tops: Even so, o Lord, doth here below, On all the Saints, thy Blessings flow; Who, to resemble those above, United are in Peace and Love. Doxology. Glory be to the Father, Son, And Holy Ghost, the Great Three-One; Which ever was, is now, shall be Ascribed to all Eternity. Psalm. CXXXIV. BEhold! now bless the Lord, Ye who by Night resort, And to your God Attendance pay Within his holy Court. Before the Throne of Grace, Your Thanks aloud proclaim; With grateful Hearts and Hands erect, O praise God's holy Name. Then shall th' eternal King, His faithful People bless; Zion shall even then be crowned With lasting Happiness. Psalm CXXXVII. When we, ah! by Euphrates Streams, Were as sad Captives sat, Far distant from our Native Soil, Bemoaning of our Fate. It was for Thee, we (Zion) did In Tears our Loves express; And all those dear Remembrances Of thy past Happiness. Whilst hanging on the neighbouring Trees, Our silent Harps were laid; Which Sympathising with our Griefs, No cheerful Music made. 'Twas here, O here, an Hebrew Song, With an insulting Air, They haughtily did then demand, To whom we Prisoners were. But how alas! shall we our Harps Tune now to Sorrows Strains; Or sing the Praises of our God, Where a strange Monarch reigns. Ah, no Jerusalem! if e'er My Thoughts of Thee decay, May on the warbling Harp, my hand Forget her wont Play. Or may, O may my ungrateful Tongue For ever silent be; Even now, before my chiefest Mirth, If I prefer not Thee. Remember therefore those, just Lord! Who on th' Attaque were found, Thus of Jerusalem to say; O race it to the Ground! For such, cursed Babylon! behold, Is thy approaching Fate; And unlamented Miseries Of thy declining State. For ever blest the Victor be! Who lays thy Feet in Chains; And in that day, 'gainst thy proud Walls, shall dash thy children's Brains. Psalm CXLI. LOrd, 'tis on Thee alone I call, And on thy Mercy do rely; Reject not then my humble Suit, When in my Wants to Thee I cry. O let my Prayer before Thee come, Like Smoke of Incense let it rise; That my prepared Devotions may Be as an Evening Sacrifice. Set Thou a Watch before my Mouth, To keep thy Servant still in Fear; That nothing from my Lips may pass, Which may offend thy Sacred Ear. To wickedness O let not, Lord, My weak unguarded Heart incline; Lest with th' Ungodly in their Ways, I may unhappily combine. But grant that I may rather be Reproved by those who Friendly Love; For that unto my wounded Head Will a balsamic Ointment prove. And thus, whilst Sinners, Lord, the Fruit Of their own Wickedness shall reap; Let me, through thy ne're-failing Love, Their evil Machinations 'scape. Psalm CXLIII. Being the Seventh and last of the Penitential Ones. GIve Ear, o Lord, to the Complaints Which I now make to Thee; And in thy everlasting Truth Fail not to answer me. Of my past Life, do Thou not, Lord, Too strict Account demand; For sure I am, none justisyed, Shall in thy Presence stand. The Foe hath long my Soul pursued, Even such has been my Dread, That in the Dark I've lain concealed, As one that hath been dead. So swelling are my Griefs become, Which from my Fears ●rise, My Heart grows desolate, my Soul Immersed in Sorrow lies. But to my Comfort I, o Lord, Thy Works recall to Mind; Nor are, my God those Days forgot Wherein thou hast been kind. For Thee doth, Lord, my gasping Soul More languishingly wait, Than thirsty Earth for Showers of Rain, That's parched with Summer's Heat. Hear then, good God, my humble Suit, Thy Presence let me have; Lest I become like those who lie In the neglected Grave. Betimes, o let my Soul, blessed Lord! Thy wont Kindness meet; And in the way that I should walk, Guide Thou my erring Feet. From those who are against me set, And would my Life surprise, Do Thou thy Servant now protect Who to thy Shelter flies. O teach me, Thou that art my God, Thy Sacred Laws t'obey; And to the Land of Righteousness My Soul at length convey. Psalm CXLV. FOr ever, O eternal God I will thy Praises sing; Thou! who our great Creator art, The everlasting King! For Thou most worthy art our Love, O brightest Excellence! Whose Power is beyond a Bound, Whose Goodness is Immense. One Age unto another still, Thy Works to sing, proceeds; And to th' astonished World around, Repeats thy mighty Deeds. Wherefore, dread Lord! I will prepare Thy Glory to relate; And in exalted Hymns display Thy bright Majestic State. That they, who me succeed, may learn Thy Greatness to express; And be with Reverence informed, Of thy Almightiness. For all must freely now confess, They have Thy Favours found; And where Thy Justice should have reached, Thy Love did most abound. Whose Providence from our Relief, No other Cares confine; But still o'er all thy Work alike, Thy tender Mercies shine. With whom in Consort therefore, Lord, We will our Th●nks proclaim; And, as it best becomes thy Saints, Extol thy sacred Name. Psalm CL. Within his ever-sacred Courts, Where his bright Honour's known O let to God your Praises be In Hallelujahs shown. Transcendent in his glorious Deeds, Let Instruments express Those lofty Joys, which best may Suit With his Almightiness. Aloud, in stately Levets, let The Trumpet sound his Praise; And the soft Strains o'th' warbling Lute Your best Affections raise. Let Violins and Organs both, His Holiness advance; O praise him on the high-toned Pipes, O praise him in the Dance. From loud and well-tuned Cymbals let Your Solemn Thanks resound; That your Devotions still may be With choicest Music crowned. Let every Thing with Breath inspired, Their mighty Lord proclaim; Let Heaven and Earth in Consort join, To Praise His Holy Name. A DIVINE Pindaric ODE, ON The Redemption of Man. FITTED To the Holy Times OF ADVENT and LENT. ODE. ON The Redemption of Man. I. AWake! awake! o my Lethargic Soul! And off, Sin's weighty Fetters, shake; Let not the Tyrant thus control, And thee its Slave, its boasted Captive make: But rise, and here o let thy unveiled Eye Survey a new thy glorious Liberty. Lo! where the long expected Day appears, And the bright Sun its western Journey steers, The Day! which now of lasting Peace the joyful Tidings bears! Hail sacred Morn! and Thou more sacred Light! Who thus with evangelic Rays Inform'st our darkened Sight, Inform'st our erring Ways. Long in Egyptian Darkness have we lain, (Like those unhappy and benighted Souls, Who wandering live beneath the Shady Poles) Not knowing how, alas! or where, (Whilst nought, but Nature's Twilight did remain, Which gave but a dim Prospect of our future State) In this wild Maze our doubtful course to steer, Or counter-trace the strict Decree of Fate. II. BUt, Happy Soul! no more shall dread Despair, Nor all the Powers of Hell, or Darkness there, O'erspread the Brightness of thy Hemisphere, Since from on high the Dayspring now descends, And on this lower World its Glory bends; Since the great Will of the Jehovah's known By the stupendious Message of his Son, And all those blessed Effects which did depend thereon. Death even now, by an eternal Doom, Is but the Effigies of Sleep become; Humanity's last cheerful Stage from this, To that bright World of never-fading Bliss; Where with our Souls, our Bodies are to be, From all their gross Impurity, Refined into a glorious Immortality: O blessed Inversion of our wretched State, And all those miserable Consequences which on it did wait! III. COme then, my Soul, and be no longer mute, But rise, and take thy well strung Lute, Set to thy Heart, With nicest Ear, and strictest Art; And with the Lark, thy morning Hymns prepare, Who now gins to mount the Air, To chant her early Matins there. O come, and with her bear a Part; Raise up the Strings, raise up thy Heart, And to the sacred undivided Three Make thou thy due Return of Praise In hallowed Lays. Let Father, Son, and Holy Spirit be The divine Gam'ut of thy Harmony. In those three ever-sacred Notes, o let Thy grateful Airs still move, thy Hymns be set, Until at length in that bright Choir above (Where reigns eternal Music, endless Love) They shall b' inspired beyond all studious Pains, With far more lasting, more seraphic strains. iv SHall every Creature, every living Thing, Prepare to celebrate th'approaching Spring, And to their great Creator their due Praises bring; Shall the sweet Birds together now repair, And with their rural Anthems fill the Air, To welcome in the newborn Year; Shall even Nature from Earth's naked Bed, Wherein she seemed so long to have lain dead, Unfold anew her Treasures, and arise With all her pompous Train of Liveries, To pay her God her annual Sacrifice. Shall every Creature thus, ah! thus put on A cheerful Look to meet th'advancing Sun; And shalt not thou, my Soul, my better Part, From cursed Estate redeemed, with thankful Heart, Join in the grateful Consort, and present Thy consecrated Instrument; That Instrument, which lay so long untuned, and out of date, As if it had bemoaned thy unreversed Fate. For shame for shame, strike the prepared String, Till 'tis in tune with Nature found, Till with thy Praises thou hast made it sound, And be not Thou the only silent thing. V GLory be therefore to the great Three-One The Either, Holy Spirit, and the Son, Who Sat with equal Power on th'eternal Throne. Glory and Praise be ever to the Lamb; Heaven's mighty Darling, and the Soul's Desire, Th'incessant Song of the Seraphic Choir: Who, from the Bosom of his Father, came, Did from his Majesty a while retire, That he might here to wretched Mankind prove Those long expected Blessings of his Love: Who was e'er yet the World's vast Frame was laid; Who for Time's Fullness only stayed, the important Embassy he made. O may I thus for ever be (Mysterious undivided Three!) Employed in praising, in admiring Thee. May all things both in Heaven and Earth, Which now have either Life or Breath; Which either on the Ground do creep, Or in the Seas, or Waters keep; Which either in the Air do fly, Or in the higher Regions lie; Which in the heavenly Choir are placed, And with thy glorious Presence graced; For ever here below, and there above, In holy and exalted Mirth, Set forth thy universal Love, Till the whole Round of Heaven and Earth, By their according Notes, shall ring With the loud Praises of th' eternal King. VI O The stupendious State of restored Man! Which stinted Reason cannot scan; Nor all the Power of vain Philosophy define, What is so far beyond the Reach of its short Sounding-Line! What could have so engaged the Deity, (O wondrous Riddle of Divinity!) Thus to contract Immensity? And in our narrow Nature, to descend At once a God offended, and a Friend, Stripped of his brightest Glories from above, Where in full Lustre He enthroned had fat, Th' alwise Dictator of th' Immortal State; Heaven's mighty Monarch of eternal Date! And by a new grand Charter in his Blood, To make us, of his Kingdom, free, (Which we in Sin so long before withstood) And give us there again a Property, But the soft Dictates of Paternal Love? VII. 'TWas Thou alone, the sweetening Attribute! To whom we daily make our humble suit Thou, who to every Creature dost dispense Thy free and gentle Influence; 'Twas Thou that didst perform what was so long foretell, In misty Prophecies of old; And didst, by thy prevailing Power, Lapsed Man again to Liberty restore, And all he lost by Eden's Sin before. Thou, matchless Love! wert the magnetic Spell, Which wrought th' amazing Miracle, And thus defeated the Designs of Hell. Nought could divert thy penetracting Force, Or stop the Stream of thy unbounded Course. For ah! offended Love! When from above My naked Sins did for thy Vengeance call, At my presumptuous disobedient Fall; Even when Justice had unsheathed her Sword, And waited only for the fatal Word, 'twas then that Thou, thy Mighty Self to show, Didst step between, and on thy Side receive the direful Blow. VIII. LO! to you sacred Hill direct thine Eye, The Theatre of Woe, Mount Calvary; Where Death in all her pompous Horror sits, And issues out her fatal Writs; Where She her utmost Empire does display, And tho' for ever vanquished, wins the Day: There, o my Soul, thou may'st at large descry In Scenes of Blood the Holy Tragedy. Lo! where a gathering Stormy Mob appears, And by their boisterous Cries untune the Spheres Nought through the Throng is heard, but Crucify; And 'tis concluded the great Son of God must die; Not t' atone their Sins, but satisfy their Lust, the Bend of their remorseless Cruelty: Whilst He alas! continues still t' appear All Love, and while They now his lingering Death prepare, The giddy Deed forgives— And to his enraged Father's Ear Breathes forth their Pardon with his dying Prayer: Whilst the astonished Sun withdraws its Light, And Nature sickens at the dreadful Sight. IX. SInce then the Christian Harvest is so near, And Grace and Mercy do so ripe appear, Be active, o my Soul! in this thy Day; Bind up thy Sheaves, and come away, And on the holy Altar lay The Offering of thy First-Fruits, Which with thy happy Circumstances Suits; For look, whereon already lies, To turn it into an acceptable Sacrifice, God's all enflaming Love, Descending from above, Where with the nimble Sparks thy ravished Thoughts may fly To that blessed Place beyond the Sky, (Where heretofore in bright Celestial Fire The holy Prophet did from hence retire) And there for ever reap thy Joy, thy long Desire. X. BUt hold— Thy officious haste thou may'st, my Soul! forbear; Nor thy Oblations now prepare, Those empty Types of what's already here. For on the gory Altar lo! where lies, The God of Love, whose self a bleeding dies, And for thy Sins becomes both Priest and Sacrifice. O dreadful, but yet happy Sight! From whence alone the feeble Soul takes Flight, Mounts on the Wings of Faith and soars aright. Thither, with Joy, come then prepare to fly, (My panting Soul!) And in those warm balsamic Streams which glide. So freely there from his deep wounded Side, Go bathe thy long contracted Leprosy; That Leprosy alas! of thy old Sin and Shame, Which from the Surfeit of thy Parents came. Thither, I say, o thither fly with speed, Where the Soul's blessed Bethesda stands indeed! That sacred Pool, from whose eternal Source, All healing Virtues have their proper Course; Where Purple Streams make glad the barren Soil With an Increase beyond the Laborer's Toil; Where Tides of Blessings do for ever flow, And ' round whose Borders Peace and Pleasure grow; Where all, who are diseased, may freely come, And without Price or Trouble now have Room; Where, once the Heart is stirred by Faith & Love, There needs no waiting till its Waters move; But where the Halt th' Infected and the Blind, And all that enter with a willing Mind, Their everlasting Cures may surely find. FINIS.