Sacred hymns Consisting of fifti select psalms of David and others, paraphrastically turned into English verse. And by Robert Tailour, set to be sung in five parts, as also to the viole, and lute or orph-arion. Published for the vse of such as delight in the exercise of music in hir original honour.

PSALM 40. (Book 40)

The Prophet DAVID, an Ancester and Type of Christ, in his thankful meditations of Gods former merci toward him; passeth from thence into a profound admiration of the divine grace; whereby the imperfection of the legal sacrifices beeing abolished, Christ their perfection was to succeed, a true accomplisher and teacher of righteousnes. So re∣turneth to crave the continuance of Gods merci in his present miseri: drawn on or renued by menes of Sauls persecution, (as it seemeth,) not yet determined.

LONG patient hope Gods pleasure did attend: At length he ear to grievŏus cry did bend; And wretch forlorn, who help now no where knew, From miri clay of yelling hole updrew. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

UPDRAWN, my feet on stateli rock he placĕd; My steps made firm: so now with nue song gracĕd, Praise, praise t'our God my thankful glori sounds; Which echŏing voice with thundring ioy rebounds. For thousands, who revieu my late distress, Which revĕrent trust, towărd God cheerd harts address.

THEN blessed hee, the Lord who makes his trust: Nor glorious pride, (whom self-loves charming lust Misdraws from God,) which fauning ey respects; Nor thoughts on liĕrs fond failing hopes reflects. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

O LORD, my God; thy gracious thoughts towărd man, Are wondrous deep: I would, but no way can, Or thankful them to thee in ray prezent, Or count to men their store and vast extent. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

WISDOMS abiss! thyn owne ordeined rites, Now sacrifice, now offring, no delights To thee can yield: myn ears hath nüer law So piercĕd that thoughts towărd nobler obiect draw. Not sinles beast, nor mene-esteemed life In flames consum'd, may ere compose the strife Wherein mans sin Iustice divine persuĕth; Not so thy grace, not so mans bliss renuĕth.

WEAK shades give place. Then said I, Lo I com: Here Lord: On mee thy blessed will be doon; Sith sacred roll of everlasting book, For mee hath taught worlds waiting eys to look. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

THY blessed will, sole scope of prudent thought, Iust actions rule, my pleazing cares haue sought To knowe, and doo: thy law in faithful hart Entresŭred liĕth; thence never shall depart. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

NOT silent lips, nor yet vnthankful brest, Thy goodnes, Lord, thou knowĕst, have e're supprest. Thy trueth, my talk; thy saving grace, my song: Thy bounties rich, my not conceling tong Hath loud proclaim'd: thy iustice, mercies deer, Assemblies great from faithful teacher hear.

THEN, Lord, ô then thy kyndnes not withhold: (Thy trueth my stay:) in merci still infold Distressed soule; whose eys lift up on high, Thee, only thee their comfort can descry. Thrung numberles of evĭls me wretch embrace: My sins and pains so grasp my frighted face; That failing hart their vieu can not endure: Who thick as hair, ten thousand griefs procure.

PLEAZE Lord at length my thralled life to free: Relieve the soule, who succour sole from thee Awaits: make speed: And blushing shame confound All those, whose hate me seeks with mortal wound On earth to lay: yea, put to shameful flight, Them in my ill who place their deer delight; Who laugh my tears, take pleasure in my pain. Ah, dire decay their shames reward remain.

BVT comfort sweet, and sacred ioy refill Them all, whose mynds, conformd to heăvenli will, Thy mercies seek, saluation thyn dezire: High spir̆it them ay t'extol thy name inspire.

NOW I a poor, throwne-doun, afflicted wight; Yet hope on God, protectour of my right: And knowe on me my Lord wil one day think. Ah, cease delay; least hart in sorroes sink.