ather and his God
"He shall for ever own,
"Call me his rock, his high abode;
"And I'll support my Son.

6 "My first-born Son array'd in grace
"At my right-hand shall sit;
"Beneath him angels know their place,
"And monarchs at his feet.

7 "My covenant stands for ever fast,
"My promises are strong;
"Firm as the heavens his throne shall last,
"His seed endure as long."

Psalm 89:6. 30 &c. Fifth Part.
The covenant of grace unchangeable;
or, Afflictions without rejection.

1 "Yet (saith the Lord) if David's race,
"The children of my Son,
"Should break my laws, abuse my grace,
"And tempt mine anger down;

2 "Their sins I'll visit with the rod,
"And make their folly smart;
"But I'll not cease to be their God,
"Nor from my truth depart.

3 "My covenant I will ne'er revoke,
"But keep my grace in mind;
"And what eternal love hath spoke
"Eternal truth shall bind.

4 "Once have I sworn (I need no more)
"And pledg'd my holiness
"To seal the sacred promise sure
"To David and his race.

5 "The sun shall see his offspring rise
"And spread from sea to sea,
"Long as he travels round the skies
"To give the nations day.

6 "Sure as the moon that rules the night
"His kingdom shall endure,
"Till the fix'd laws of shade and light
"Shall be observ'd no more."

Psalm 89:7. 47 &c. Sixth Part.
Mortality and hope.
A funeral psalm.

1 Remember, Lord, our mortal state,
How frail our life, how short the date!
Where is the man that draws his breath
Safe from disease, secure from death?

2 Lord, while we see whole nations die,
Our flesh and sense repine and cry,
"Must death for ever rage and reign?
"Or hast thou made mankind in vain?

3 "Where is thy promise to the just?
"Are not thy servants turn'd to dust?"
But faith forbids these mournful sighs,
And sees the sleeping dust arise.

4 That glorious hour, that dreadful day
Wipes the reproach of saints away,
And clears the honour of thy word;
Awake our souls, and bless the Lord.

Psalm 89:8. 47 &c. Last Part.
As the 113th Psalm.
Life, death, and the resurrection.

1 Think, mighty God, on feeble man,
How few his hours, how short his span!
Short from the cradle to the grave:
Who can secure his vital breath
Against the bold demands of death,
With skill to fly, or power to save?

2 Lord, shall it be for ever said,
"The race of man was only made
"For sickness, sorrow, and the dust?"
Are not thy servants day by day
Sent to their graves, and turn'd to cl