3*
We are bound to Canaan's land, When we took our faviour for our choice, We lifted in his band.
XTpon Chrift and deliverance, Though earthly friends againft me turn,
Surely I'll not be grieved, I know where I can make my mourn.
I here fhall be received.
New trials begin to rife,
In hafte I'll run to hire, Wit ha broken heart and watery eyes,
I'll beg and plead him :
I'll tell him of my trials here,
How I'm rejected, And beg with patience, 1 might bear,
Trials when 1 am afflicted.
When I afk relief from friends below, With me they foon grow weay,
And charging me of what I know From my heart I am not guilty.
My friends above will be my Judges,
With him I am well pleaf'd ; In my breaft his promife ledg'd,
Surely I'm not deceived.
When to this friend I make my mourn,
With bitter lementation, He gives me balm for found
timed to my condition.
