v.1-16
C. M.
The sufferings and death of Christ.

Why has my God my soul forsook,
Nor will a smile afford?
(Thus David once in anguish spoke,
And thus our dying Lord.)

Though 'tis thy chief delight to dwell
Among thy praising saints,
Yet thou canst hear a groan as well,
And pity our complaints.

Our fathers trusted in thy name,
And great deliv'rance found;
But I'm a worm, despised of men,
And trodden to the ground.

Shaking the head, they pass me by,
And laugh my soul to scorn;

Christ dying, rising, interceding, and reigning.

Acts 4:24, etc.

[Maker and sovereign Lord
Of heav'n, and earth, and seas,
Thy providence confirms thy word,
And answers thy decrees.

The things so long foretold
By David are fulfilled,
When Jews and Gentiles joined to slay
Jesus, thine holy child.]

Why did the Gentiles rage,
And Jews, with one accord,
Bend all their counsels to destroy
Th' Anointed of the Lord?

Rulers and kings agree
To form a vain design;
Against the Lord their powers unite,

v.13-15
S. M.
Portion of saints and sinners.

Arise, my gracious God,
And make the wicked flee;
They are but thy chastising rod,
To drive thy saints to thee.

Behold, the sinner dies,
His haughty words are vain;
Here in this life his pleasure lies,
And all beyond is pain.

Then let his pride advance,
And boast of all his store;
The Lord is my inheritance,
My soul can wish no more.

I shall behold the face
Of my forgiving God;
And stand complete in righteousness,
Washed in my Savior's blood.

Christ's all-sufficiency.

How fast their guilt and sorrows rise
Who haste to seek some idol-god!
I will not taste their sacrifice,
Their offerings of forbidden blood.

My God provides a richer cup,
And nobler food to live upon;
He for my life has offered up
Jesus, his best-beloved Son.

His love is my perpetual feast;
By day his counsels guide me right;
And be his name for ever blessed,
Who gives me sweet advice by night.

I set him still before mine eyes;
At my right hand he stands prepared

Confession of our poverty.

Preserve me, Lord, in time of need,
For succor to thy throne I flee,
But have no merits there to plead:
My goodness cannot reach to thee.

Oft have my heart and tongue confessed
How empty and how poor I am;
My praise can never make thee blessed,
Nor add new glories to thy name.

Yet, Lord, thy saints on earth may reap
Some profit by the good we do;
These are the company I keep,
These are the choicest friends I know.

Let others choose the sons of mirth
To give a relish to their wine;

Summer and winter.
A Song for Great Britain.

O Britain, praise thy mighty God,
And make his honors known abroad,
He bid the ocean round thee flow;
Not bars of brass could guard thee so.

Thy children are secure and blest;
Thy shores have peace, thy cities rest;
He feeds thy sons with finest wheat,
And adds his blessing to their meat.

Thy changing seasons he ordains,
Thine early and thy latter rains;
His flakes of snow like wool he sends,
And thus the springing corn defends.

With hoary frost he strews the ground;

v.14,17ff
C. M.
Mercy to sufferers; or, God hearing prayer.

Let every tongue thy goodness speak,
Thou sovereign Lord of all;
Thy strength'ning hands uphold the weak,
And raise the poor that fall.

When sorrow bows the spirit down,
Or virtue lies distressed
Beneath some proud oppressor's frown,
Thou giv'st the mourners rest.

The Lord supports our tott'ring days,
And guides our giddy youth;
Holy and just are all his ways,
And all his words are truth.

He knows the pains his servants feel,

v.1-7,11-13
C. M.
The greatness of God.

Long as I live I'll bless thy name,
My King, my God of love;
My work and joy shall be the same
In the bright world above.

Great is the Lord, his power unknown,
And let his praise be great;
I'll sing the honors of thy throne,
Thy works of grace repeat.

Thy grace shall dwell upon my tongue;
And while my lips rejoice,
The men that hear my sacred song
Shall join their cheerful voice.

Fathers to sons shall teach thy name,
And children learn thy ways;

v.12-15
L. M.
Grace above riches; or, The happy nation.

Happy the city where their sons,
Like pillars round a palace set,
And daughters, bright as polished stones,
Give strength and beauty to the state.

Happy the country where the sheep,
Cattle, and corn, have large increase;
Where men securely work or sleep,
Nor sons of plunder break the peace.

Happy the nation thus endowed,
But more divinely blest are those
On whom the all-sufficient God
Himself with all his grace bestows.

Sincerity professed, and grace tried; or, The heart-searching God.

My God, what inward grief I feel
When impious men transgress thy will!
I mourn to hear their lips profane
Take thy tremendous name in vain.

Does not my soul detest and hate
The sons of malice and deceit?
Those that oppose thy laws and thee,
I count them enemies to me.

Lord, search my soul, try every thought;
Though my own heart accuse me not
Of walking in a false disguise,
I beg the trial of thine eyes.

Doth secret mischief lurk within?