v.6-14
C. M.
Pride and death; or, The vanity of life and riches.

Why doth the man of riches grow
To insolence and pride,
To see his wealth and honors flow
With every rising tide?

[Why doth he treat the poor with scorn,
Made of the self-same clay,
And boast as though his flesh was born
Of better dust than they?]

Not all his treasures can procure
His soul a short reprieve,
Redeem from death one guilty hour,
Or make his brother live.

[Life is a blessing can't be sold,
The ransom is too high;

v.10-14
S. M.
The beauty of the church; or, Gospel worship and order.

Far as thy name is known,
The world declares thy praise;
Thy saints, O Lord, before thy throne,
Their songs of honor raise.

With joy let Judah stand
On Zion's chosen hill,
Proclaim the wonders of thy hand,
And counsels of thy will.

Let strangers walk around
The city where we dwell,
Compass and view thine holy ground,
And mark the building well;

The orders of thy house,
The worship of thy court,
The cheerful songs, the solemn vows,

v.1-8
S. M.
The church is the honor and safety of a nation.

[Great is the Lord our God,
And let his praise be great;
He makes his churches his abode,
His most delightful seat.

These temples of his grace,
How beautiful they stand!
The honors of our native place,
And bulwarks of our land.]

In Zion God is known,
A refuge in distress;
How bright has his salvation shone
Through all her palaces!

When kings against her joined,
And saw the Lord was there,
In wild confusion of the mind

The glory of Christ.

My Savior and my King,
Thy beauties are divine;
Thy lips with blessings overflow,
And every grace is thine.

Now make thy glory known,
Gird on thy dreadful sword,
And ride in majesty to spread
The conquests of thy word.

Strike through thy stubborn foes,
Or melt their hearts t' obey,
While justice, meekness, grace, and truth,
Attend thy glorious way.

Thy laws, O God, are right;
Thy throne shall ever stand;
And thy victorious gospel proves
A sceptre in thy hand.

v.1-5
C. M.
Desertion and hope; or, Complaint of absence from public worship.

With earnest longings of the mind,
My God, to thee I look;
So pants the hunted hart to find
And taste the cooling brook.

When shall I see thy courts of grace,
And meet my God again?
So long an absence from thy face
My heart endures with pain.

Temptations vex my weary soul,
And tears are my repast;
The foe insults without control,
"And where's your God at last?"

'Tis with a mournful pleasure now
I think on ancient days;

v.5-9
L. M.
The perfections and providence of God.

High in the heav'ns, eternal God,
Thy goodness in full glory shines
Thy truth shall break through every cloud
That veils and darkens thy designs.

For ever firm thy justice stands,
As mountains their foundations keep;
Wise are the wonders of thy hands;
Thy judgments are a mighty deep.

Thy providence is kind and large,
Both man and beast thy bounty share;
The whole creation is thy charge,
But saints are thy peculiar care.

My God! how excellent thy grace,

v.1,2,6
C. M.
A song of praise.

In God's own house pronounce his praise,
His grace he there reveals;
To heav'n your joy and wonder raise,
For there his glory dwells.

Let all your sacred passions move,
While you rehearse his deeds;
But the great work of saving love
Your highest praise exceeds.

All that have motion, life, and breath,
Proclaim your Maker blest;
Yet, when my voice expires in death,
My soul shall praise him best.

v.2-5
L. M.
Watchfulness and brotherly reproof.
A morning or evening Psalm.

My God, accept my early vows,
Like morning incense in thine house;
And let my nightly worship rise
Sweet as the evening sacrifice.

Watch o'er my lips, and guard them, Lord,
From every rash and heedless word;
Nor let my feet incline to tread
The guilty path where sinners lead.

O may the righteous, when I stray,
Smite, and reprove my wand'ring way!
Their gentle words, like ointment shed,
Shall never bruise, but cheer my head.

v.1-4,14,19-21
L. M.
The church is God's house and care.

Praise ye the Lord, exalt his name,
While in his holy courts ye wait,
Ye saints, that to his house belong,
Or stand attending at his gate.

Praise ye the Lord, the Lord is good;
To praise his name is sweet employ:
Isr'el he chose of old, and still
His church is his peculiar joy.

The Lord himself will judge his saints;
He treats his servants as his friends;
And when he hears their sore complaints,
Repents the sorrows that he sends.

Persecutors punished.

Up from my youth, may Isr'el say,
Have I been nursed in tears;
My griefs were constant as the day,
And tedious as the years.

Up from my youth I bore the rage
Of all the sons of strife;
Oft they assailed my riper age,
But not destroyed my life.

Their cruel plow had torn my flesh
With furrows long and deep;
Hourly they vexed my wounds afresh,
Nor let my sorrows sleep.

The Lord grew angry on his throne,
And, with impartial eye,
Measured the mischiefs they had done,