PSALM LXXXIV. 1 How lovely are thy dwellings fair! 2 My soul doth long and almost die 3 There even the sparrow, freed from wrong, Hath found a house of rest; The swallow there, to lay her young, Hath built her brooding nest; Even by the altars, Lord of Hosts, And home they fly, from round the coasts, 4 Happy who in thy house reside, Where thee they ever praise! 5 Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide, 6 They pass through Baca's thirsty vale, 7 They journey on from strength to strength, With joy and gladsome cheer, Till all before our God at length, 8 Lord God of Hosts, hear now my prayer, O Jacob's God, give ear: 9 Thou, God, our shield, look on the face 10 For one day in thy courts to be, I, in the temple of my God, Than dwell in tents, and rich abode, 11 For God, the Lord, both sun and shield, Gives grace and glory bright; No good from them shall be withheld 12 Lord God of Hosts, that reign'st on high, That man is truly blest, Who only on thee doth rely, PSALM LXXXV. 1 THY land to favour graciously Thou hast not, Lord, been slack; 2 The iniquity thou didst forgive That wrought thy people woe; 3 Thine anger all thou hadst removed, And calmly didst return From thy fierce wrath, which we had proved Far worse than fire to burn. 4 God of our saving health and peace, Thine indignation cause to cease 5 Wilt thou be angry without end, For ever angry thus ? Wilt thou thy frowning ire extend 6 Wilt thou not turn and hear our voice, 7 Cause us to see thy goodness, Lord, Thy saving health to us afford, 8 And now, what God the Lord will speak, I will go straight and hear, For to his people he speaks peace, To his dear saints he will speak peace ; Return to folly, but surcease 9 Surely, to such as do him fear, Salvation is at hand; And glory shall, ere long, appear To dwell within our land. 10 Mercy and truth, that long were miss'd, Now joyfully are met ; Sweet peace and righteousness have kiss'd, 11 Truth from the earth, like to a flower, And justice from her heavenly bower 12 The Lord will also then bestow Our land shall forth in plenty throw 13 Before him righteousness shall go, Then will he come, and not be slow; PSALM LXXXVI. 1 THY gracious ear, O Lord, incline, 2 Preserve my soul; for I have trod 3 Pity me, Lord, for daily thee 5 For thou art good; thou, Lord, art prone To pardon, thou to all Art full of mercy, thou alone, 6 Unto my supplication, Lord, 7 I, in the day of my distress, 8 Like thee among the gods is none, 9 The nations all whom thou hast made 10 For great thou art, and wonders great |