6 My soul shall pray for Zion still, While life or breath remains; There my best friends, my kindred dwell, There God my Saviour reigns.

Psalm 122:2.  Proper Tune. 
Going to church.

1 How pleas’d and blest was I
To hear the people cry,
“Come, let us seek our God to-day!”
Yes, with a cheerful zeal,
We haste to Zion’s hill,
And there our vows and honours pay.

2 Zion, thrice happy place,
Adorn’d with wondrous grace,
And walls of strength embrace thee round;
In thee our tribes appear
To pray, and praise, and hear
The sacred gospel’s joyful sound.

3 There David’s greater Son
Has fix’d his royal throne,
He sits for grace and judgment there;
He bids the saint be glad,
He makes the sinner sad,
And humble souls rejoice with fear.

4 May peace attend thy gate,
And joy within thee wait
To bless the soul of every guest! 
The man that seeks thy peace,
And wishes thine increase,
A thousand blessings on him rest!

5 My tongue repeats her vows
“Peace to this sacred house!”
For there my friends and kindred dwell;
And since my glorious God
Makes thee his blest abode,
My soul shall ever love thee well.

Repeat the fourth stanza to complete the Tune.

Psalm 123. 
Pleading with submission.

1 O thou whose grace and justice reign
Enthron’d above the skies,
To thee our hearts would tell their pain,
To thee we lift our eyes.

2 As Servants watch their master’s hand,
And fear the angry stroke;
Or maids before their mistress stand,
And wait a peaceful look;

3 So for our sins we justly feel
Thy discipline, O God;
Yet wait the gracious moment still,
Till thou remove thy rod.

4 Those that in wealth and pleasure live
Our daily groans deride,
And thy delays of mercy give
Fresh courage to their pride.

5 Our foes insult us, but our hope
In thy compassion lies;
This thought shall bear our spirits up,
That God will not despise.

Psalm 124. 
A song for the fifth of November.

1 Had not the Lord, may Israel say,
Had not the Lord maintain’d our side,
When men to make our lives a prey,
Rose like the swelling of the tide;

2 The swelling tide had stopt our breath,
So fiercely did the waters roll,
We had been swallow’d deep in death;
Proud waters had o’erwhelm’d our soul.

3 We leap for joy, we shout and sing,
Who just escap’d the fatal stroke;
So flies the bird with cheerful wing,
When once the fowler’s snare is broke.

4 For ever blessed be the Lord, Who broke the fowler’s cursed snare, Who sav’d us from the murdering sword, And made our lives and souls his care.

5 Our help is in Jehovah’s Name, Who form’d the earth and built the skies; He that upholds that wondrous frame Guards his own church with watchful eyes.