The PRAYER.
O Thou who inhabitest the Praises of Israel, our Fa∣thers trusted in thee; they trusted, and thou didst deliver them; they cried unto thee, and they were delive∣red; they trusted in thee, and were not confounded: Praise waits for thee in Sion. Thou deservest my devoutest Praises, my most hearty Thanks, my loudest Celebrations: Can I think of what thou hast done for me, and be loath to praise thee? What should I do but praise thee? All that I see with∣in me, or about me, is Mercy; my Meat, my Drink, my Clothes, are Mercies. But, Oh! what a Mercy is that Spi∣ritual Food thou settest before me at thy Table! Oh, let my Mouth be filled with thy Praise all the Day long! I am sensi∣ble not only of the Necessity, but the Comeliness of it too. It sets a Lustre on my Soul, it is an Ornament to my better Part, it makes me glorious in thy Sight. Oh, teach me the Art of praising thee! Let me but love thee, and I cannot but praise thee: My Love will dictate Words, and suggest Meditations, and I shall speak of all thy wondrous Works. Let this be my greatest Delight, my greatest Joy, my greatest Pleasure, that I may praise thee at last with all the Saints and Angels, to Eternal Ages, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.