Songs V and VI
A Song of Praise for Provision

Come, let us praise our Master's Hand, 
    Which gives us Daily Bread; 
Thy House, my Lord, is full of Guests, 
    Thy Table richly spread: 
Earth is thy Table, where thy Guests 
    Do daily sit and feed; 
Thy Hand Carves every one his Part, 
    And suffers none to Need.

Naked came I into the World, 
    And nothing with me brought; 
And nothing have I here deserv'd, 
    Yet have I lacked Nought. 
I do not bless my Lab'ring Hand, 
    My Lab'ring Head, or Chance; 
Thy Providence, most Gracious God, 
    Is mine Inheritance.

Thy Bounty gives me Bread with Peace, 
    A Table free from Strife; 
Thy Blessing is the Staff of Bread, 
    Which is the Staff of Life. 
The People sate in Companies, 
    My Saviour fed them all; 
So all the Families of th' Earth 
    Have Tables in God's Hall.

The Vine and Olive-Branches too 
    Are Nourish'd by thy Care; 
Mercies we eat, Mercies we drink, 
    Mercies we daily wear. 
Shall I repine against my God, 
    That kept me all my Days? 
Then let my Tongue forget to taste, 
    When it forgets to praise.
A Song of Praise for Protection

My God, my only Help and Hope, 
    My strong and sure Defence: 
For all my Safety and my Peace 
    I bless thy Providence. 
The daily Favours of my God 
    I cannot Sing at large; 
Yet let me make this Holy Boast, 
    I am th' Almighty's Charge.

Lord, in the Day, thou art about 
    The Paths wherein I tread; 
And in the Night, when I lie down, 
    Thou art about my Bed. 
I travel through the Wilderness, 
    Free from the Beasts of Prey; 
The Wolves and Lions Mouths are stopp'd, 
    The Serpents creep away. 

In Preservation God Creates, 
    Delivers in Protection; 
Lord, every Moment of my Life 
    Is like a Resurrection. 
A thousand Deaths I daily 'scape, 
    I pass by many a Pit, 
I sail by many dreadful Rocks, 
    Where others have been split.

I see blind People with mine Eyes, 
    To Hospitals I walk; 
I hear of them that cannot hear, 
    And of the Dumb I talk; 
Lord, what am I that thou should'st shew 
    Such Favour unto me? 
My Bones and Senses all must say, 
    Lord, who is like to thee?