Part I.

M Y heart on Thee is fix'd, my Strength, my Pow'r,
My stedfast Rock, my Fortress, my high Tow'r,
My God, my Safety, and my Confidence,
The Horn of my salvation, my Defence.
My songs shall Thy deserved praise resound;
For at my pray'rs Thou wilt my foes confound.
Sorrows of death on ev'ry side assail'd,
And dreadful floods of impious men prevail'd;
Sorrows of hell my compass'd soul dismay'd,
And to entrap me deadly snares were laid.
In this distress I cried, and call'd upon

Lord , grant my just request; O hear my cry,
And pray'rs that lips untouch'd with guile unfold!
My cause before Thy high tribunal try,
And let Thine eyes my righteousness behold.

Thou prov'st my heart ev'n in the night's recess,
Like metal tri'st me, yet no dross hast found;
I am resolv'd, my tongue shall not transgress,
But on Thy word will all my actions ground.

So shall I from the paths of tyrants fly;
O, lest I slip, direct my steps by Thine!
I Thee invoke, for Thou wilt hear my cry;
Thine ear to my afflicted voice incline.

Preserve me, my undoubted Aid,
To Whom, thou, O my soul, hast said,
Thou art my God; no good in me,
Nor merit can extend to Thee,
But to Thy blessed saints that dwell
On earth, whose Graces most excell,
Those ravish me with pure delight.
Their sorrows shall be infinite,
Who other gods with gifts adore,
Their bloody off'rings I abhor;
Nor shall their names my lips profane,
But God my lot will still maintain;
He is my portion, He bestows
The cup that with His bounty flows.
I have a pleasant seat obtain'd,

Who shall in Thy tent abide?
On Thy holy hill reside?
He that's just and innocent,
Tells the truth of his intent,
Slanders none with venom'd tongue,
Fears to do his neighbour wrong,
Fosters not base infamies,
Vice beholds with scornful eyes,
Honours those who fear the Lord;
Keeps, though to his loss, his word;
Takes no bribes for wicked ends,
Nor to use his money lends:
Who by these directions guide
Their pure steps, shall never slide.

The fool hath said in his false heart,
God cares not what to man succeeds.
Abominable are their deeds;
All ill affects from good depart.

Jehovah man's rebellious race
Beheld from His caelestial throne;
To see if there were any one
That understood, or sought His face.

All from forsaken truth are flown;
Corrupt in body, such in soul,
Defil'd within, without as foul;
None good endeavours, no, not one.

Are all, that work iniquity,
By ignorance so blindly led?
My people they devour like bread;

How long? Lord, let me not
For ever be forgot?
How long, my God, wilt Thou
Contract Thy clouded brow?
How long in mind perplex'd
Shall I be daily vex'd?

How long shall he control,
Who persecutes my soul?
Consider, hear my cries;
Illuminate mine eyes;
Lest with exhausted breath
I ever sleep in death:

Lest my insulting foe
Boast in my overthrow;
And those who would destroy,
In my subversion joy.
But I, Thou ever just,
Will in Thy mercy trust;

And in Thy saving grace
My constant comfort place;

Help , Lord, for godly men decay;
From mortals faith, enforced, flies:
And with their sins companions, they,
Talk of affected vanities:
Their flatt'ring tongues abound with lies;
Their double hearts bent to betray.

God shall those flatt'ring lips confound,
And tongues which swell with proud disdain:
Whose boastings arrogantly sound;
Our tongues the conquest shall obtain;
They are our own, who shall restrain?
Or to our wills prescribe a bound?

But for th' oppression of the poor,

My God, on Thee my hopes rely:
Why say they to my troubled soul,
Arise, up to your mountain fly;
Fly, quickly, like a chased fowl?

For lo! the wicked bend their bows,
Their arrows fit with secret art;
That closely they may shoot at those,
Who are upright and pure in heart.

If their foundation be destroy'd,
What can the righteous build upon?
God in His temple doth abide;
Heav'n is the Great Jehovah's throne.

His Eyes behold, His Eyelids try
The sons of men; allows the best:
But such as joy in cruelty

Part I.

W ITHDRAW not, O my God, my Guide:
In time of trouble dost Thou hide
Thy cheerful Face?
Who want Thy grace,
The poor pursue with cruel pride:
O be they by their own
Inventions overthrown.

The wicked boast of their success;
The covetous profanely bless,
By Thee, O Lord,
So much abhorr'd.
Their pride will not Thy pow'r confess
Nor have Thy favour sought,
Or had of Thee a thought.

Part I.

T HEE will I praise with heart and voice,
Thy wondrous works aloud resound;
In Thee, O Lord, will I rejoice,
Thy Name with zealous praises crown'd.

My foes fell by inglorious flight,
Before Thy terrible aspect;
Thy pow'rful hands support my right,
Thou judgment justly dost direct.

The proud are fall'n, the heathen fly;
Oblivion shall their names entomb;