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D. R. Gre B.s.
No fears shall then my soul depress *,
Though thus my enemies increase :
[3] And therefore now arise, O Lord",
And graciously thy help afford.

And thus [4] to grant a sure defence Belongs to God’s [5] omnipotence.

But you, my frail [6] malicious foes,
Who do my power despise,

Dr. Swift.

* Deprease, Loard, Scotice.

[3] He desires God's help
because he is not afraid of his
enemies; others, I think, usu-
ally desire it when they are

[4] The doctor has a mighty
affection for the particle thus:
he uses it four times in this
(the 3d) Psalm, and too times
in other places; and always

[5]. That is as much as to
say, that he that can do ah.
things can defend a man; which
I take to be an undoubted

[6] Are they malicious out of frailty, or frail out of malice?

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Since those alone the Lord has blest
Who do from sin refrain,

He therefore grants what I request [8],
And hears when I [9] complain.

Then shall my soul with more divine

And solid joys abound;

Than they with stores of corn and wine,
Those earthly riches, crown'd [10].

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[7] That is, they say false
things falsely.—I will discover
the doctor's secret of making
coherence and connexions in
the Psalms, that he brags of in
his title and preface: he lays
violent hands on certain parti-
cles (such as, and, when, since,
for, but, thus, so, &c.) and
presses them to his service on
all occasions, sore against their
wills, and without any regard
whether the sense will admit
them or not.
[8] It is plain the doctorne-
wer requested to be a poet.
[9]. If your requests be
granted, why do you complain?
[10] I have heard of a crown
or garland of corn; but a
crown of wine is new, and can
hardly be explained, unless we
suppose the wine to be in


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bris Gross.
And thus confiding, Lord, in thee,
I take my calm repose [1];
For thou each night protectest me,
From all my [2] treacherous foes.

Thy heavy hand restrain;
[3] With mercy, Lord, correct:

Do not ([4] as if in high disdain)
My helpless soul reject.

For how shall I sustain [5] Those ills which now I bear?

My vitals are consum'd with pain, [9] My soul oppress'd with care!

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DR. GIB BS, Lord, I have pray'd in [7] wain, So long, so much opprest; My very [8] cries increase my pain, And tears prevent my rest:

These do my sight impair,
And flowing eyes decay;

While to my enemies I fear
Thus [9] to become a prey.

If I’ve not spard him, though he's grown
My causeless [1] enemy;

Then let my life and fortune [2] crown
Become to him a prey.

But, Lord, thy kind assistance [3] lend;
Arise in my defence;

According to thy laws [4] contend
For injur'd innocence.

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D R. GIB B se
That all the nations that oppose
May then confess thy power;
Therefore assist my righteous cause,
That they may thee adore :
For equal judgment, Lord, to thee,
The nations [1] all submit;
Be therefore [2] merciful to me,
And my just soul acquit [3].

Thus, by God's gracious providence [4],
I'm still preserv'd secure,

Who all the good and just defends
With a resistless [5] power.

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