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N. V.


1.-(4. 6, 7. 12, 13.) LORD, let me know my term of days,

Why then should I on worthless toys, How soon my life will end ;

With anxious care attend ? The num'rous train of ills disclose, On Thee alone my stedfast hope Which this frail state attend.

Shall ever, Lord, depend. Man like a shadow rainly walks, Lord, hear my cry, accept my tears, With fruitless cares oppress'd;

And listen to my prayer;
He heaps up wealth, but cannot tell Who sojourn like a stranger here,
By whom 'twill be possess’d.

As all my fathers were.
O spare me yet a little time,

My wasted strength restore ;
Before I vanish quite from hence,

And shall be seen no more.

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XXXIX. (II.) :L ORD! let me know mine end,

At Thy rebuke, the bloom My days, how brief their date, Of man's vain beauty flies; That I may timely comprehend

And grief shall, like a moth, consume How frail my best estate.

All that delights our eyes.

My life is but a span,

Mine age as nought with Thee ; Man, in his highest honour, man

Is dust and vanity.

Have pity on my fears,

Hearken to my request,
Turn not in silence from my tears,

But give the mourner rest.

A shadow even in health,

Disquieted with pride,
Or rack'd with care, he heaps up wealth
Which unknown heirs divide.

O spare me yet, I pray!

A while my strength restore,
Ere I am summon'd hence away,

And seen on earth no more.


From RAVENSCROFT's Psalter, 1621.

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(1, 2. 11.)

N. V.
S pants the hart for cooling streams, For Thee, my God, the living God,
When heated in the chase,

My thirsty soul doth pine :
So longs my soul, O God, for Thee, O when shall I behold Thy face,
And Thy refreshing grace.

Thou Majesty divine ?
Why restless, why cast down, my soul ?

Hope still, and thou shalt sing
The praise of Him who is thy God,

Thy health's eternal spring.

Director of Music at Leipsig. 1655. From Havergal's . Old Church Psalmody.'

Nassau. 7, 7, 7, 7, 7, 7.


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to as our sires have told Not by mortal's feeble sword, All Thy wondrous deeds of old, Not by arm of flesh, O Lord, How Thy strong and powerful hand But by Thine, and Thine alone, Drove the heathen from the land,

Were their num'rous foes o'erthrown, How with peace Thy people bless'd Thine the voice the world obeys; Enter'd on their promised rest.

Lord, to Thee be all the praise.
Helpless we in danger's hour,
Weak our arms, and vain our power ;
Yet, by Thy Almighty aid,
We are more than conqu’rors made.
Thine the voice the world obeys;
Lord, to Thee be all the praise.

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(1, 2, 3. 8. 11. 17.)

N. V. IIAVI *AVE mercy, Lord, on me,

Make me to hear with joy
As Thou wert ever kind;

Thy kind forgiving voice;
Det mo, oppress'd with loads of guilt, That so the bones which Thou hast broke
Thy wonted mercy find.

May with fresh strength rejoice. Wash off my foul offence,

The joy Thy favour gives
And cleanse me from my sin ;

Let me again obtain ;
For I confess my crime, and see And Thy free Spirit's firm support
How great my guilt has been.

My fainting soul sustain.

A broken spirit is

By God most highly prized;
By Him a broken contrite heart

Shall never be despised,

* Educated in the Chapel Royal, Organist of St. Ciement Dane and St. Bride.

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