PAGE 136:
PSALM 79. L.M.
Complaint of the church against enemies. (cont.)
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"Where is your God of boasted pow'r,
"And where the promise of his grace?"
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Deep from the prison's horrid gloom,
O! hear the mournful captive sigh;
And let thy sov'reign pow'r reprieve
The trembling souls condemn'd to die.
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Let those who dar'd t' insult thy reign,
Return dismay'd with endless shame;
While heathens, who thy grace despise,
Shall from thy vengeance learn thy name.
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So shall thy children, freed from death,
Eternal songs of honour raise;
And ev'ry future age shall tell
Thy sov'reign pow'r and pard'ning grace.
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PSALM 80. First Part. L.M.
The prayer of the church under affliction.
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GREAT Shepherd of thine Israel,
Who didst between the cherubs dwell,
And lead the tribes, thy chosen sheep,
Safe thro' the desert and the deep.
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Thy church is in the desert now,
Shine from on high, and guide us through:
Turn us to thee, thy love restore,
We shall be sav'd and sigh no more.
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Great God, whom heav'nly hosts obey,
How long shall we lament and pray,
And wait in vain thy kind return?
How long shall thy fierce anger burn?
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Instead of wine and cheerful bread,
Thy saints with their own tears are fed:
Turn us to thee, thy love restore,
We shall be sav'd, and sigh no more.
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PAGE 137
PSALM 80. Second Part. L.M.
The vineyard of God wasted.
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LORD thou hast planted with thy hands
A lovely vine in heathen lands;
Thy pow'r defended it around,
And heav'nly dews enrich'd the ground.
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How did the spreading branches shoot,
And bless the nations with the fruit!
But now, dear Lord, look down and see
Thy mourning vine, that lovely tree.
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Why is its beauty thus defac'd?
Why hast thou laid her fences waste?
Strangers and foes against her join,
And ev'ry beast devours thy vine.
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Return, almighty God, return;
Nor let thy bleeding vineyard mourn:
Turn us to thee, thy love restore;
We shall be sav'd, and sigh no more.
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PSALM 80. Third Part. L.M.
Christ, the defender of his church.
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LORD, when thy vine in Canaan grew,
Thou wast its strength and glory too;
Attack'd in vain by all its foes,
'Till the fair Branch of promise rose.
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Fair Branch, ordain'd of old to shoot
From David's stock, from Jacob's root;
Himself a noble Vine, and we
The lesser branches of the Tree.
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'Tis thy own Son; and he shall stand
Girt with thy strength, at thy right hand;
Th' eternal Son, enthron'd and blest,
To give his suffering people rest.
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O! for his sake attend our cry,
Shine On thy churches, lest they die:
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