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PSALM 27. First Part. C.M.
The Church is our delight and safety. (cont.)

3	Shall hear thy messages of love,    And there enquire thy will.
4	When troubles rise, and storms appear,    There may his children hide: God has a strong pavilion, where    He makes my soul abide.
5	Now shall my head be lifted high    Above my foes around; And songs of joy and victory    Within thy temple sound.

PSALM 27. Second Part. C.M.
Prayer and hope.

1	SOON as I heard my Father say,    "Ye children, seek my grace;" My heart reply 'd, without delay,    "I'll seek my Father's face."
2	Let not thy face be hid from me,    Nor frown my soul away: God of my life, I fly to thee    In a distressing day.
3	Should friends and kindred, near and dear,    Leave me to want, or die; My God would make my life his care,    And all my need supply.
4	My fainting flesh had dy'd with grief;    Had not my soul believ'd, Thy grace would soon provide relief;    Nor was my hope deceiv'd.
5	Wait on the Lord, ye trembling saints,    And keep your courage up: He'll raise your spirit when it faints,    And far exceed your hope.

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PSALM 28. L.M.
Prayer and praise, for deliverance from Enemies.

1	O GOD of grace, my cry attend! Lest, like the sons of guilt become, Beguil'd by Satan, I descend With hopeless wretches to the tomb.
2	To thee my humble sighs arise; With lifted hands, on thee I call; Lord, hear my fervent pray'rs and cries, Nor leave me in despair to fall.
3	Oh save my soul from shame and sin; Nor let my heedless footsteps go, Where harden'd wretches swift decline Down the broad way to endless woe.
4	While peace their flatt'ring lips proclaim, And love profess, and hope impart; They blast their neighbour's honest fame, And wing their arrows to his heart.
5	But, while they plant the secret snare, Thy searching eyes their path regard: Thy hands their dreadful doom prepare, And mete their guilt its just reward.
6	Because their hearts thy works despise, Thy works of wisdom, grace, and pow'r: Thy hand, regardless of their cries, Shall sink them, that they rise no more.
7	Blest be the Lord, who heard my pray'r; The Lord my shield, my help, my song; Who sav'd my soul from sin and fear; And tun'd with praise my thankful tongue.
8	In the dark hour of deep distress, By foes beset, of death afraid; My spirit trusted in his grace, And sought, and found his heav'nly aid.