Happy the man whose cautious feet Shun the broad way that sinners go, Who hates the place where atheists meet, And fears to talk as scoffers do. He loves t' employ the morning light Amongst the statutes of the Lord; And spends the wakeful hours of night, With pleasure, pondering o'er his word. He, like a plant by gentle streams, Shall flourish in immortal green. And heav'n will shine with kindest beams On every work his hands begin. But sinners find their counsels crossed: As chaff before the tempest flies, So shall their hopes be blown and lost, When the last trumpet shakes the skies. In vain the rebel seeks to stand In judgment with the pious race; The dreadful Judge, with stern command, Divides him to a diff'rent place. "Straight is the way my saints have trod; I blessed the path, and drew it plain; But you would choose the crooked road, And down it leads to endless pain."
Why did the Jews proclaim their rage? The Romans, why their swords employ? Against the Lord their powers engage, His dear Anointed to destroy? "Come, let us break his bands," they say, "This man shall never give us laws:" And thus they cast his yoke away, And nailed the Monarch to the cross. But God, who high in glory reigns, Laughs at their pride, their rage controls, He'll vex their hearts with inward pains, And speak in thunder to their souls. "I will maintain the King I made On Zion's everlasting hill; My hand shall bring him from the dead, And he shall stand your Sovereign still." [His wondrous rising from the earth Makes his eternal Godhead known; The Lord declares his heav'nly birth, "This day have I begot my Son. "Ascend, my Son, to my right hand, There thou shalt ask, and I bestow, The utmost bounds of heathen lands; To thee the Northern Isles shall bow."] But nations that resist his grace Shall fall beneath his iron stroke; His rod shall crush his foes with ease, As potters' earthen work is broke. PAUSE. Now, ye that sit on earthly thrones, Be wise, and serve the Lord, the Lamb; Now at his feet submit your crowns, Rejoice and tremble at his name. With humble love address the Son, Lest he grow angry, and ye die; His wrath will burn to worlds unknown, If ye provoke his jealousy. His storms shall drive you quick to hell; He is a God, and ye but dust: Happy the souls that know him well, And make his grace their only trust.
O Lord, bow many are my foes, In this weak state of flesh and blood! My peace they daily discompose, But my defence and hope is God. Tired with the burdens of the day, To thee I raised an evening cry: Thou heard'st when I began to pray, And thine almighty help was nigh. Supported by thine heav'nly aid, I laid me down, and slept secure: Not death should make my heart afraid, Though I should wake and rise no more. But God sustained me all the night: Salvation doth to God belong; He raised my head to see the light, And make his praise my morning song.
O God of grace and righteousness, Hear and attend when I complain; Thou hast enlarged me in distress, Bow down a gracious ear again. Ye sons of men, in vain ye try To turn my glory into shame; How long will scoffers love to lie, And dare reproach my Savior's name? Know that the Lord divides his saints From all the tribes of men beside; He hears the cry of penitents, For the dear sake of Christ that died. When our obedient bands have done A thousand works of righteousness, We put our trust in God alone, And glory in his pardoning grace. Let the unthinking many say, "Who will bestow some earthly good?" But, Lord, thy light and love we pray; Our souls desire this heav'nly food. Then shall my cheerful powers rejoice, At grace and favors so divine; Nor will I change my happy choice For all their corn, and all their wine.
Lord, I can suffer thy rebukes, When thou with kindness dost chastise; But thy fierce wrath I cannot bear: O let it not against me rise. Pity my languishing estate, And ease the sorrows that I feel; The wounds thine heavy hand hath made, O let thy gentler touches heal! See how I pass my weary days In sighs and groans; and when 'tis night My bed is watered with my tears; My grief consumes, and dims my sight. Look, how the powers of nature mourn! How long, Almighty God, how long? When shall thine hour of grace return? When shall I make thy grace my song? I feel my flesh so near the grave, My thoughts are tempted to despair; But graves can never praise the Lord, For all is dust and silence there. Depart, ye tempters, from my soul, And all despairing thoughts, depart; My God, who hears lily humble moan, Will ease my flesh, and cheer my heart.
Almighty Ruler of the skies, Through the wide earth thy name is spread; And thine eternal glories rise O'er all the heav'ns thy hands have made. To thee the voices of the young A monument of honor raise; And babes, with uninstructed tongue, Declare the wonders of thy praise. Thy power assists their tender age To bring proud rebels to the ground, To still the bold blasphemer's rage, And all their policies confound. Children amidst thy temple throng To see their great Redeemer's face; The Son of David is their song, And young hosannas fill the place. The frowning scribes and angry priests In vain their impious cavils bring; Revenge sits silent in their breasts, While Jewish babes proclaim their King.
Lord, what was man, when made at first, Adam the offspring of the dust, That thou shouldst set him and his race But just below an angel's place? That thou shouldst raise his nature so, And make him lord of all below; Make every beast and bird submit, And lay the fishes at his feet? But, O! what brighter glories wait To crown the Second Adam's state! What honors shall thy Son adorn, Who condescended to be born! See him below his angels made; See him in dust amongst the dead, To save a ruined world from sin; But he shall reign with power divine. The world to come, redeemed from all The miseries that attend the fall, New made and glorious, shall submit At our exalted Savior's feet.
My refuge is the God of love; Why do my foes insult and cry, "Fly like a tim'rous, trembling dove, To distant woods or mountains fly?" If government be all destroyed, (That firm foundation of our peace,) And violence make justice void, Where shall the righteous seek redress? The Lord in heav'n has fixed his throne, His eye surveys the world below: To him all mortal things are known, His eyelids search our spirits through. If he afflicts his saints so far, To prove their love and try their grace, What may the bold transgressors fear? His very soul abhors their ways. On impious wretches he shall rain Tempests of brimstone, fire, and death; Such as he kindled on the plain Of Sodom, with his angry breath. The righteous Lord loves righteous souls, Whose thoughts and actions are sincere; And with a gracious eye beholds The men that his own image bear.
Lord, if thou dost not soon appear, Virtue and truth will fly away; A faithful man amongst us here Will scarce be found, if thou delay. The whole discourse, when neighbors meet, Is filled with trifles loose and vain; Their lips are flattery and deceit, And their proud language is profane. But lips that with deceit abound Shall not maintain their triumph long; The God of vengeance will confound The flattering and blaspheming tongue. "Yet shall our words be free," they cry; "Our tongues shall be controlled by none: Where is the Lord will ask us why? Or say our lips are not our own?" The Lord, who sees the poor oppressed, And hears th' oppressor's haughty strain, Will rise to give his children rest, Nor shall they trust his word in vain. Thy word, O Lord, though often tried, Void of deceit shall still appear; Not silver, sev'n times purified From dross and mixture, shines so clear. Thy grace shall in the darkest hour Defend the holy soul from harm; Though when the vilest men have power, On every side will sinners swarm.
How long, O Lord, shall I complain, Like one that seeks his God in vain? Canst thou thy face for ever hide, And I still pray, and be denied? Shall I for ever be forgot, As one whom thou regardest not Still shall my soul thine absence mourn, And still despair of thy return? How long shall my poor troubled breast Be with these anxious thoughts oppressed? And Satan, my malicious foe, Rejoice to see me sunk so low? Hear, Lord, and grant me quick relief, Before my death conclude my grief: If thou withhold thy heav'nly light, I sleep in everlasting night. How will the powers of darkness boast, If but one praying soul be lost! But I have trusted in thy grace, And shall again behold thy face. Whate'er my fears or foes suggest, Thou art my hope, my joy, my rest; My heart shall feel thy love, and raise My cheerful voice to songs of praise.
Who shall ascend thy heav'nly place, Great God, and dwell before thy face? The man that minds religion now, And humbly walks with God below; Whose hands are pure, whose heart is clean, Whose lips still speak the thing they mean; No slanders dwell upon his tongue; He hates to do his neighbor wrong. [Scarce will he trust an ill report, Nor vents it to his neighbor's hurt: Sinners of state he can despise, But saints are honored in his eyes.] [Firm to his word he ever stood, And always makes his promise good; Nor dares to change the thing he swears, Whatever pain or loss he bears.] [He never deals in bribing gold, And mourns that justice should be sold; While others gripe and grind the poor, Sweet charity attends his door.] He loves his enemies, and prays For those that curse him to his face And doth to all men still the same That he would hope or wish from them. Yet, when his holiest works are done, His soul depends on grace alone: This is the man thy face shall see, And dwell for ever, Lord, with thee.
Preserve me, Lord, in time of need, For succor to thy throne I flee, But have no merits there to plead: My goodness cannot reach to thee. Oft have my heart and tongue confessed How empty and how poor I am; My praise can never make thee blessed, Nor add new glories to thy name. Yet, Lord, thy saints on earth may reap Some profit by the good we do; These are the company I keep, These are the choicest friends I know. Let others choose the sons of mirth To give a relish to their wine; I love the men of heav'nly birth, Whose thoughts and language are divine.
How fast their guilt and sorrows rise Who haste to seek some idol-god! I will not taste their sacrifice, Their offerings of forbidden blood. My God provides a richer cup, And nobler food to live upon; He for my life has offered up Jesus, his best-beloved Son. His love is my perpetual feast; By day his counsels guide me right; And be his name for ever blessed, Who gives me sweet advice by night. I set him still before mine eyes; At my right hand he stands prepared To keep my soul from all surprise, And be my everlasting guard.
When God is nigh, my faith is strong; His arm is my almighty prop: Be glad, my heart; rejoice, my tongue; My dying flesh shall rest in hope. Though in the dust I lay my head, Yet, gracious God, thou wilt not leave My soul for ever with the dead, Nor lose thy children in the grave. My flesh shall thy first call obey, Shake off the dust, and rise on high; Then shalt thou lead the wondrous way Up to thy throne above the sky. There streams of endless pleasure flow; And full discoveries of thy grace (Which we but tasted here below) Spread heav'nly joys through all the place.
Lord, I am thine; but thou wilt prove My faith, my patience, and my love: When men of spite against me join, They are the sword, the hand is thine. Their hope and portion lies below: 'Tis all the happiness they know, 'Tis all they seek; they take their shares, And leave the rest among their heirs. What sinners value I resign; Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine: I shall behold thy blissful face, And stand complete in righteousness. This life's a dream, an empty show; But the bright world to which I go Hath joys substantial and sincere: When shall I wake and find me there? O glorious hour! O blest abode! I shall be near and like my God! And flesh and sin no more control The sacred pleasures of the soul. My flesh shall slumber in the ground Till the last trumpet's joyful sound; Then burst the chains with sweet surprise, And in my Savior's image rise.
Thee will I love, O Lord, my strength, My rock, my tower, my high defence: Thy mighty arm shall be my trust, For I have found salvation thence. Death, and the terrors of the grave, Stood round me with their dismal shade; While floods of high temptations rose, And made my sinking soul afraid. I saw the op'ning gates of hell, With endless pains and sorrows there, Which none but they that feel can tell; While I was hurried to despair. In my distress I called my God, When I could scarce believe him mine: He bowed his ear to my complaint, Then did his grace appear divine. With speed he flew to my relief, As on a cherub's wing he rode; Awful and bright as lightning shone The face of my deliverer, God. Temptations fled at his rebuke, The blast of his almighty breath; He sent salvation from on high, And drew me from the deeps of death. Great were my fears, my foes were great, Much was their strength, and more their rage; But Christ, my Lord, is conqueror still, In all the wars that devils wage. My song for ever shall record That terrible, that joyful hour; And give the glory to the Lord, Due to his mercy and his power.
Lord, thou hast seen my soul sincere, Hast made thy truth and love appear; Before mine eyes I set thy laws, And thou hast owned my righteous cause. Since I have learned thy holy ways, I've walked upright before thy face; Or if my feet did e'er depart, 'Twas never with a wicked heart. What sore temptations broke my rest! What wars and strugglings in my breast! But through thy grace, that reigns within, I guard against my darling sin: That sin which close besets me still, That works and strives against my will: When shall thy Spirit's sovereign power Destroy it, that it rise no more? [With an impartial hand, the Lord Deals out to mortals their reward; The kind and faithful souls shall find A God as faithful and as kind. The just and pure shall ever say, Thou art more pure, more just than they; And men that love revenge shall know God hath an arm of vengeance too.]
Just are thy ways, and true thy word, Great Rock of my secure abode: Who is a God beside the Lord? Or where's a refuge like our God? 'Tis he that girds me with his might, Gives me his holy sword to wield, And while with sin and hell I fight, Spreads his salvation for my shield. He lives, and blessed be my Rock! The God of my salvation lives: The dark designs of hell are broke; Sweet is the peace my Father gives. Before the scoffers of the age I will exalt my Father's name, Nor tremble at their mighty rage, But meet reproach, and bear the shame. To David and his royal seed Thy grace for ever shall extend; Thy love to saints in Christ their Head Knows not a limit, nor an end.
The heav'ns declare thy glory, Lord, In every star thy wisdom shines But when our eyes behold thy word, We read thy name in fairer lines. The rolling sun, the changing light, And nights and days, thy power confess But the blest volume thou hast writ Reveals thy justice and thy grace. Sun, moon, and stars convey thy praise Round the whole earth, and never stand: So when thy truth begun its race, It touched and glanced on every land. Nor shall thy spreading gospel rest Till through the world thy truth has run, Till Christ has all the nations blest That see the light or feel the sun. Great Sun of Righteousness, arise, Bless the dark world with heav'nly light; Thy gospel makes the simple wise, Thy laws are pure, thy judgments right. Thy noblest wonders here we view In souls renewed and sins forgiv'n; Lord, cleanse my sins, my soul renew, And make thy word my guide to heaven.
Now may the God of power and grace Attend his people's humble cry! Jehovah hears when Isr'el prays, And brings deliverance from on high. The name of Jacob's God defends Better than shields or brazen walls; He from his sanctuary sends Succor and strength, when Zion calls. Well he remembers all our sighs, His love exceeds our best deserts; His love accepts the sacrifice Of humble groans and broken hearts. In his salvation is our hope, And, in the name of Isr'el's God, Our troops shall lift their banners up, Our navies spread their flags abroad. Some trust in horses trained for war, And some of chariots make their boasts: Our surest expectations are From thee, the Lord of heav'nly hosts. [O may the memory of thy name Inspire our armies for the fight! Our foes shall fall and die with shame, Or quit the field with shameful flight.] Now save us, Lord, from slavish fear, Now let our hopes be firm and strong, Till the salvation shall appear, And joy and triumph raise the song.
David rejoiced in God his strength, Raised to the throne by special grace; But Christ the Son appears at length, Fulfils the triumph and the praise. How great is the Messiah's joy In the salvation of thy hand! Lord, thou hast raised his kingdom high, And giv'n the world to his command. Thy goodness grants whate'er he will, Nor doth the least request withhold; Blessings of love prevent him still, And crowns of glory, not of gold. Honor and majesty divine Around his sacred temples shine; Blest with the favor of thy face, And length of everlasting days. Thine hand shall find out all his foes; And as a fiery oven glows With raging heat and living coals, So shall thy wrath devour their souls.
Now let our mournful songs record The dying sorrows of our Lord, When he complained in tears and blood, As one forsaken of his God. The Jews beheld him thus forlorn, And shake their heads, and laugh in scorn: "He rescued others from the grave; Now let him try himself to save. "This is the man did once pretend God was his Father and his Friend If God the blessed loved him so, Why doth he fail to help him now?" Barbarous people! cruel priests! How they stood round like savage beasts! Like lions gaping to devour, When God had left him in their power. They wound his head, his hands, his feet, Till streams of blood each other meet; By lot his garments they divide, And mock the pangs in which he died. But God, his Father, heard his cry; Raised from the dead, he reigns on high, The nations learn his righteousness, And humble sinners taste his grace.
My Shepherd is the living Lord; Now shall my wants be well supplied; His providence and holy word Become my safety and my guide. In pastures where salvation grows He makes me feed, he makes me rest; There living water gently flows, And all the food's divinely blest. My wand'ring feet his ways mistake, But he restores my soul to peace, And leads me, for his mercy's sake, In the fair paths of righteousness. Though I walk through the gloomy vale Where death and all its terrors are, My heart and hope shall never fail, For God my Shepherd's with me there. Amidst the darkness and the deeps Thou art my comfort, thou my stay; Thy staff supports my feeble steps, Thy rod directs my doubtful way. The sons of earth, and sons of hell, Gaze at thy goodness, and repine To see my table spread so well With living bread and cheerful wine. [How I rejoice when on my head Thy Spirit condescends to rest! 'Tis a divine anointing, shed Like oil of gladness at a feast. Surely the mercies of the Lord Attend his household all their days; There will I dwell to hear his word, To seek his face, and sing his praise.
This spacious earth is all the Lord's, And men, and worms, and beasts, and birds: He raised the building on the seas, And gave it for their dwelling-place. But there's a brighter world on high, Thy palace, Lord, above the sky: Who shall ascend that blest abode, And dwell so near his Maker God? He that abhors and fears to sin, Whose heart is pure, whose hands are clean, Him shall the Lord the Savior bless, And clothe his soul with righteousness. These are the men, the pious race, That seek the God of Jacob's face: These shall enjoy the blissful sight, And dwell in everlasting light. PAUSE. Rejoice, ye shining worlds on high, Behold the King of glory nigh! Who can this King of glory be? The mighty Lord, the Savior's he. Ye heav'nly gates, your leaves display, To make the Lord the Savior way: Laden with spoils from earth and hell, The Conqueror comes with God to dwell. Raised from the dead, he goes before; He opens heav'n's eternal door, To give his saints a blest abode, Near their Redeemer and their God.
Judge me, O Lord, and prove my ways, And try my reins, and try my heart My faith upon thy promise stays, Nor from thy law my feet depart. I hate to walk, I hate to sit, With men of vanity and lies The scoffer and the hypocrite Are the abhorrence of mine eyes. Amongst thy saints will I appear With frauds well washed in innocence; But when I stand before thy bar, The blood of Christ is my defence. I love thy habitation, Lord, The temple where thine honors dwell; There shall I hear thine holy word, And there thy works of wonder tell. Let not my soul be joined at last With men of treachery and blood, Since I my days on earth have passed Among the saints, and near my God.
Give to the Lord, ye sons of fame,
Give to {he Lord renown and power,
Ascribe due honors to his name,
And his eternal might adore.
The Lord proclaims his power aloud
Over the ocean and the land;
His voice divides the wat'ry cloud,
And lightnings blaze at his command.
He speaks, and tempest, hail, and wind,
Lay the wide forest bare around:
The fearful hart and frighted hind
Leap at the terror of the sound.
To Lebanon he turns his voice,
And lo, the stately cedars break;
The mountains tremble at the noise,
The valleys roar, the deserts quake.
The Lord sits sovereign on the flood,
The Thund'rer reigns for ever king;
But makes his church his blest abode,
Where we his awful glories sing.
In gentler language there, the Lord
The counsels of his grace imparts;
Amidst the raging storm, his word
Speaks peace and courage to our hearts.
I Will extol thee, Lord, on high, At thy command diseases fly: Who but a God can speak and save From the dark borders of the grave? Sing to the Lord, ye saints of his, And tell how large his goodness is; Let all your powers rejoice and bless While you record his holiness. His anger but a moment stays; His love is life and length of days; Though grief and tears the night employ, The morning star restores the joy.
Firm was my health, my day was bright, And I presumed 'twould ne'er be night; Fondly I said within my heart, "Pleasure and peace shall ne'er depart." But I forgot thine arm was strong Which made my mountain stand so long: Soon as thy face began to hide, My health was gone, my comforts died. I cried aloud to thee, my God, "What canst thou profit by my blood? Deep in the dust can I declare Thy truth, or sing thy goodness there? "Hear me, O God of grace," I said, "And bring me from among the dead:" Thy word rebuked the pains I felt, Thy pard'ning love removed my guilt. My groans, and tears, and forms of woe Are turned to joy and praises now; I throw my sackcloth on the ground, And ease and gladness gird me round. My tongue, the glory of my frame, Shall ne'er be silent of thy name; Thy praise shall sound through earth and heav'n For sickness healed and sins forgiv'n.
Blest is the man, for ever blest, Whose guilt is pardoned by his God; Whose sins with sorrow are confessed, And covered with his Savior's blood. Blest is the man to whom the Lord Imputes not his iniquities; He pleads no merit of reward, And not on works, but grace relies. From guile his heart and lips are free; His humble joy, his holy fear, With deep repentance well agree, And join to prove his faith sincere. How glorious is that righteousness That hides and cancels all his sins, While a bright evidence of grace Through his whole life appears and shine!
While I keep silence, and conceal My heavy guilt within my heart, What torments doth my conscience feel! What agonies of inward smart! I spread my sins before the Lord, And all my secret faults confess; Thy gospel speaks a pard'ning word, Thine Holy Spirit seals the grace. For this shall every humble soul Make swift addresses to thy seat; When floods of huge temptations roll, There shall they find a bless'd retreat. How safe beneath thy wings I lie, When days grow dark and storms appear; And when I walk, thy watchful eye Shall guide me safe from every snare.
Lord, I will bless thee all my days, Thy praise shall dwell upon my tongue My soul shall glory in thy grace, While saints rejoice to hear the song. Come, magnify the Lord with me, Come, let us all exalt his name; I sought th' eternal God, and he Has not exposed my hope to shame. I told him all my secret grief, My secret groaning reached his ears; He gave my inward pains relief; And calmed the tumult of my fears. To him the poor lift up their eyes, Their faces feel the heav'nly shine; A beam of mercy from the skies Fills them with light and joy divine. His holy angels pitch their tents Around the men that serve the Lord; O fear and love him, all his saints, Taste of his grace, and trust his word. The wild young lions, pinched with pain And hunger, roar through all the wood; But none shall seek the Lord in vain, Nor want supplies of real good.
Children, in years and knowledge young, Your parents' hope, your parents' joy, Attend the counsels of my tongue, Let pious thoughts your minds employ. If you desire a length of days, And peace to crown your mortal state, Restrain your feet from impious ways, Your lips from slander and deceit. The eyes of God regard his saints, His ears are open to their cries; He sets his frowning face against The sons of violence and lies. To humble souls and broken hearts God with his grace is ever nigh; Pardon and hope his love imparts, When men in deep contrition lie. He tells their tears, he counts their groans, His Son redeems their souls from death; His Spirit heals their broken bones, They in his praise employ their breath.
High in the heav'ns, eternal God, Thy goodness in full glory shines Thy truth shall break through every cloud That veils and darkens thy designs. For ever firm thy justice stands, As mountains their foundations keep; Wise are the wonders of thy hands; Thy judgments are a mighty deep. Thy providence is kind and large, Both man and beast thy bounty share; The whole creation is thy charge, But saints are thy peculiar care. My God! how excellent thy grace, Whence all our hope and comfort springs! The sons of Adam in distress Fly to the shadow of thy wings. From the provisions of thy house We shall be fed with sweet repast; There mercy like a river flows, And brings salvation to our taste. Life, like a fountain rich and free, Springs from the presence of the Lord; And in thy light our souls shall see The glories promised in thy word.
The wonders, Lord, thy love has wrought, Exceed our praise, surmount our thought; Should I attempt the long detail, My speech would faint, my numbers fail, No blood of beasts on altars spilt Can cleanse the souls of men from guilt; But thou hast set before our eyes An all-sufficient sacrifice. Lo! thine eternal Son appears, To thy designs he bows his ears, Assumes a body well prepared, And well performs a work so hard. "Behold, I come," the Savior cries, With love and duty in his eyes, "I come to bear the heavy load Of sins, and do thy will, my God. "'Tis written in thy great decree, 'Tis in thy book foretold of me, I must fulfil the Savior's part; And lo! thy law is in my heart! "I'll magnify thy holy law, And rebels to obedience draw, When on my cross I'm lifted high, Or to my crown above the sky. "The Spirit shall descend and show What thou hast done, and what I do The wond'ring world shall learn thy grace, Thy wisdom, and thy righteousness."
Blest is the man whose bowels move, And melt with pity to the poor; Whose soul, by sympathizing love, Feels what his fellow saints endure. His heart contrives for their relief More good than his own hands can do; He, in the time of gen'ral grief, Shall find the Lord has bowels too. His soul shall live secure on earth, With secret blessings on his head, When drought, and pestilence, and dearth Around him multiply their dead. Or if he languish on his couch, God will pronounce his sins forgiv'n; Will save him with a healing touch, Or take his willing soul to heav'n.
My spirit sinks within me, Lord, But I will call thy name to mind, And times of past distress record, When I have found my God was kind. Huge troubles with tumultuous noise Swell like a sea, and round me spread; Thy water-spouts drown all my joys, And rising waves roll o'er my head. Yet will the Lord command his love, When I address his throne by day, Nor in the night his grace remove; The night shall hear me sing and pray. I'll cast myself before his feet, And say, "My God, my heav'nly rock, Why doth thy love so long forget The soul that groans beneath thy stroke?" I'll chide my heart that sinks so low, Why should my soul indulge her grief? Hope in the Lord, and praise him too; He is my rest, my sure relief. Thy light and truth shall guide me still, Thy word shall my best thoughts employ, And lead me to thine heav'nly hill, My God, my most exceeding joy.
Now be my heart inspired to sing The glories of my Savior King, Jesus the Lord; how heav'nly fair His form! how bright his beauties are! O'er all the sons of human race He shines with a superior grace; Love from his lips divinely flows, And blessings all his state compose. Dress thee in arms, most mighty Lord, Gird on the terror of thy sword, In majesty and glory ride, With truth and meekness at thy side. Thine anger, like a pointed dart, Shall pierce the foes of stubborn heart; Or words of mercy, kind and sweet, Shall melt the rebels at thy feet. Thy throne, O God, for ever stands, Grace is the sceptre in thy hands; Thy laws and works are just and right, Justice and grace are thy delight. God, thine own God, has richly shed His oil of gladness on thy head, And with his sacred Spirit blest His first-born Son above the rest.
The King of saints, how fair his face, Adorned with majesty and grace! He comes with blessings from above, And wins the nations to his love. At his right hand our eyes behold The queen arrayed in purest gold; The world admires her heav'nly dress, Her robe of joy and righteousness. He forms her beauties like his own; He calls and seats her near his throne: Fair stranger, let thine heart forget The idols of thy native state. So shall the King the more rejoice In thee, the favorite of his choice; Let him be loved, and yet adored, For he's thy Maker and thy Lord. O happy hour, when thou shalt rise To his fair palace in the skies, And all thy sons (a numerous train) Each like a prince in glory reign! Let endless honors crown his head; Let every age his praises spread; While we with cheerful songs approve The condescensions of his love.
God is the refuge of his saints, When storms of sharp distress invade Ere we can offer our complaints, Behold him present with his aid. Let mountains from their seats be hurled Down to the deep, and buried there, Convulsions shake the solid world, Our faith shall never yield to fear. Loud may the troubled ocean roar, In sacred peace our souls abide, While every nation, every shore, Trembles, and dreads the swelling tide. There is a stream, whose gentle flow Supplies the city of our God; Life, love, and joy still gliding through, And wat'ring our divine abode. That sacred stream, thine holy word, That all our raging fear controls: Sweet peace thy promises afford, And give new strength to fainting souls. Zion enjoys her Monarch's love, Secure against a threat'ning hour; Nor can her firm foundations move, Built on his truth, and armed with power.
Let Zion in her King rejoice; Though tyrants rage, and kingdoms rise, He utters his almighty voice, The nations melt, the tumult dies. The Lord of old for Jacob fought, And Jacob's God is still our aid: Behold the works his hand has wrought, What desolations he has made! From sea to sea, through all the shores, He makes the noise of battle cease; When from on high his thunder roars, He awes the trembling world to peace. He breaks the bow, he cuts the spear Chariots he burns with heav'nly flame; Keep silence, all the earth, and hear The sound and glory of his name. "Be still, and learn that I am God; I'll be exalted o'er the lands; I will be known and feared abroad; But still my throne in Zion stands." O Lord of hosts, Almighty King, While we so near thy presence dwell, Our faith shall sit secure, and sing Defiance to the gates of hell.
Why do the proud insult the poor, And boast the large estates they have? How vain are riches to secure Their haughty owners from the grave! They can't redeem one hour from death, With all the wealth in which they trust; Nor give a dying brother breath, When God commands him down to dust. There the dark earth and dismal shade Shall clasp their naked bodies round; That flesh, so delicately fed, Lies cold and moulders in the ground. Like thoughtless sheep the sinner dies, Laid in the grave for worms to eat: The saints shall in the morning rise, And find th' oppressor at their feet. His honors perish in the dust, And pomp and beauty, birth and blood: That glorious day exalts the just To full dominion o'er the proud. My Savior shall my life restore, And raise me from my dark abode; My flesh and soul shall part no more, But dwell for ever near my God.
The Lord, the Judge, his churches warns, Let hypocrites attend and fear, Who place their hope in rites and forms, But make not faith nor love their care. Vile wretches dare rehearse his name With lips of falsehood and deceit; A friend or brother they defame, And soothe and flatter those they hate. They watch to do their neighbors wrong, Yet dare to seek their Maker's face; They take his cov'nant on their tongue, But break his laws, abuse his grace. To heav'n they lift their hands unclean, Defiled with lust, defiled with blood; By night they practise every sin, By day their mouths draw near to God. And while his judgments long delay, They grow secure and sin the more; They think he sleeps as well as they, And put far off the dreadful hour. O dreadful hour! when God draws near And sets their crimes before their eyes! His wrath their guilty souls shall tear, And no deliv'rer dare to rise.
Show pity, Lord, O Lord, forgive, Let a repenting rebel live: Are not thy mercies large and free? May not a sinner trust in thee? My crimes are great, but not surpass The power and glory of thy grace: Great God, thy nature hath no bound, So let thy pard'ning love be found. O wash my soul from every sin, And make my guilty conscience clean; Here on my heart the burden lies, And past offences pain my eyes. My lips with shame my sins confess Against thy law, against thy grace: Lord, should thy judgment grow severe, I am condemned, but thou art clear. Should sudden vengeance seize my breath, I must pronounce thee just in death; And if my soul were sent to hell, Thy righteous law approves it well. Yet save a trembling sinner, Lord, Whose hope, still hov'ring round thy word, Would light on some sweet promise there, Some sure support against despair.
Lord, I am vile, conceived in sin; And born unholy and unclean; Sprung from the man whose guilty fall Corrupts the race, and taints us all. Soon as we draw our infant breath, The seeds of sin grow up for death; Thy law demands a perfect heart, But we're defiled in every part. [Great God, create my heart anew, And form my spirit pure and true; O make me wise betimes to spy My danger and my remedy.] Behold, I fall before thy face; My only refuge is thy grace: No outward forms can make me clean The leprosy lies deep within. No bleeding bird, nor bleeding beast, Nor hyssop branch, nor sprinkling priest, Nor running brook, nor flood, nor sea, Can wash the dismal stain away. Jesus, my God, thy blood alone Hath power sufficient to atone; Thy blood can make me white as snow No Jewish types could cleanse me so. While guilt disturbs and breaks my peace, Nor flesh nor soul hath rest or ease; Lord, let me hear thy pard'ning voice, And make my broken bones rejoice.
O Thou that hear'st when sinners cry, Though all my crimes before thee lie, Behold them not with angry look, But blot their mem'ry from thy book. Create my nature pure within, And form my soul averse to sin: Let thy good Spirit ne'er depart, Nor hide thy presence from my heart. I cannot live without thy light Cast out and banished from thy sight: Thine holy joys, my God, restore, And guard me that I fall no more. Though I have grieved thy Spirit, Lord, His help and comfort still afford; And let a wretch come near thy throne, To plead the merits of thy Son. A broken heart, my God, my King, Is all the sacrifice I bring; The God of grace will ne'er despise A broken heart for sacrifice. My soul lies humbled in the dust, And owns thy dreadful sentence just: Look down, O Lord, with pitying eye, And save the soul condemned to die. Then will I teach the world thy ways; Sinners shall learn thy sovereign grace; I'll lead them to my Savior's blood, And they shall praise a pard'ning God. O may thy love inspire my tongue! Salvation shall be all my song; And all my powers shall join to bless The Lord, my strength and righteousness.
My God, in whom are all the springs Of boundless love, and grace unknown, Hide me beneath thy spreading wings, Till the dark cloud is overblown. Up to the heav'ns I send my cry, The Lord will my desires perform; He sends his angel from the sky, And saves me from the threat'ning storm. Be thou exalted, O my God, Above the heav'ns, where angels dwell; Thy power on earth be known abroad, And land to land thy wonders tell. My heart is fixed; my song shall raise Immortal honors to thy name; Awake, my tongue, to sound his praise, My tongue, the glory of my frame. High o'er the earth his mercy reigns, And reaches to the utmost sky; His truth to endless years remains, When lower worlds dissolve and die. Be thou exalted, O my God, Above the heav'ns, where angels dwell; Thy power on earth be known abroad, And land to land thy wonders tell.
My spirit looks to God alone; My rock and refuge is his throne; In all my fears, in all my straits, My soul on his salvation waits. Trust him, ye saints, in all your ways, Pour out your hearts before his face: When helpers fail, and foes invade, God is our all-sufficient aid. False are the men of high degree, The baser sort are vanity; Laid in the balance, both appear Light as a puff of empty air. Make not increasing gold your trust, Nor set your hearts on glitt'ring dust Why will you grasp the fleeting smoke, And not believe what God has spoke? Once has his awful voice declared, Once and again my ears have heard, "All power is his eternal due; He must be feared and trusted too." For sovereign power reigns not alone, Grace is a partner of the throne: Thy grace and justice, mighty Lord, Shall well divide our last reward.
Great God, indulge my humble claim, Thou art my hope, my joy, my rest; The glories that compose thy name Stand all engaged to make me blest. Thou great and good, thou just and wise, Thou art my Father and my God; And I am thine by sacred ties; Thy son, thy servant, bought with blood. With heart, and eyes, and lifted hands, For thee I long, to thee I look, As travellers in thirsty lands Pant for the cooling water-brook. With early feet I love t' appear Among thy saints, and seek thy face; Oft have I seen thy glory there, And felt the power of sovereign grace. Not fruits nor wines that tempt our taste, Nor all the joys our senses know, Could make me so divinely blest, Or raise my cheerful passions so. My life itself without thy love No taste of pleasure could afford; 'Twould but a tiresome burden prove, If I were banish'd from the Lord. Amidst the wakeful hours of night, When busy cares afflict my head, One thought of thee gives new delight, And adds refreshment to my bed. I'll lift my hands, I'll raise my voice, While I have breath to pray or praise; This work shall make my heart rejoice, And spend the remnant of my days.
The praise of Zion waits for thee, My God, and praise becomes thy house; There shall thy saints thy glory see, And there perform their public vows. O thou whose mercy bends the skies To save when humble sinners pray, All lands to thee shall lift their eyes, And islands of the northern sea. Against my will my sins prevail, But grace shall purge away their stain; The blood of Christ will never fail To wash my garments white again. Blest is the man whom thou shalt choose, And give him kind access to thee; Give him a place within thy house, To taste thy love divinely free. PAUSE. Let Babel fear when Zion prays; Babel, prepare for long distress, When Zion's God himself arrays In terror and in righteousness. With dreadful glory God fulfils What his afflicted saints request; And with almighty wrath reveals His love, to give his churches rest. Then shall the flocking nations run To Zion's hill, and own their Lord; The rising and the setting sun Shall see the Savior's name adored.
The God of our salvation hears The groans of Zion mixed with tears; Yet when he comes with kind designs, Through all the way his terror shines. On him the race of man depends, Far as the earth's remotest ends, Where the Creator's name is known By nature's feeble light alone. Sailors, that travel o'er the flood, Address their frighted souls to God, When tempests rage and billows roar At dreadful distance from the shore. He bids the noisy tempests cease; He calms the raging crowd to peace, When a tumultuous nation raves Wild as the winds, and loud as waves. Whole kingdoms, shaken by the storm, He settles in a peaceful form; Mountains, established by his hand, Firm on their old foundations stand. Behold his ensigns sweep the sky, New comets blaze, and lightnings fly; The heathen lands, with swift surprise, From the bright horrors turn their eyes. At his command the morning ray Smiles in the east, and leads the day; He guides the sun's declining wheels Over the tops of western hills. Seasons and times obey his voice; The ev'ning and the morn rejoice To see the earth made soft with showers, Laden with fruit, and dressed in flowers. 'Tis from his wat'ry stores on high He gives the thirsty ground supply; He walks upon the clouds, and thence Doth his enriching drops dispense. The desert grows a fruitful field, Abundant food the valleys yield; The valleys shout with cheerful voice, And neighb'ring hills repeat their joys. The pastures smile in green array; There lambs and larger cattle play; The larger cattle and the lamb Each in his language speaks thy name. Thy works pronounce thy power divine; O'er every field thy glories shine; Through every month thy gifts appear; Great God, thy goodness crowns the year!
Let God arise in all his might, And put the troops of hell to flight, As smoke that sought to cloud the skies Before the rising tempest flies. [He comes arrayed in burning flames Justice and Vengeance are his names: Behold his fainting foes expire, Like melting wax before the fire.] He rides and thunders through the sky; His name, Jehovah, sounds on high Sing to his name, ye sons of grace; Ye saints, rejoice before his face. The widow and the fatherless Fly to his aid in sharp distress; In him the poor and helpless find A Judge that's just, a Father kind. He breaks the captive's heavy chain, And prisoners see the light again; But rebels that dispute his will Shall dwell in chains and darkness still. PAUSE. Kingdoms and thrones to God belong; Crown him, ye nations, in your song: His wondrous names and powers rehearse; His honors shall enrich your verse. He shakes the heav'ns with loud alarms; How terrible is God in arms! In Isr'el are his mercies known, Isr'el is his peculiar throne. Proclaim him King, pronounce him blest; He's your defence, your joy, your rest: When terrors rise and nations faint, God is the strength of every saint.
Lord, when thou didst ascend on high, Ten thousand angels filled the sky; Those heav'nly guards around thee wait, Like chariots that attend thy state. Not Sinai's mountain could appear More glorious when the Lord was there; While he pronounced his dreadful law, And struck the chosen tribes with awe. How bright the triumph none can tell, When the rebellious powers of hell, That thousand souls had captive made, Were all in chains like captives led. Raised by his Father to the throne, He sent the promised Spirit down With gifts and grace for rebel men, That God might dwell on earth again.
We bless the Lord, the just, the good, Who fills our hearts with joy and food: Who pours his blessings from the skies, And loads our days with rich supplies. He sends the sun his circuit round, To cheer the fruits, to warm the ground; He bids the clouds with plenteous rain Refresh the thirsty earth again. 'Tis to his care we owe our breath, And all our near escapes from death; Safety and health to God belong; He heals the weak, and guards the strong. He makes the saint and sinner prove The common blessings of his love; But the wide diff'rence that remains, Is endless joy, or endless pains. The Lord, that bruised the serpent's head, On all the serpent's seed shall tread; The stubborn sinner's hope confound, And smite him with a lasting wound. But his right hand his saints shall raise From the deep earth, or deeper seas, And bring them to his courts above; There shall they taste his special love.
Deep in our hearts let us record The deeper sorrows of our Lord; Behold the rising billows roll, To overwhelm his holy soul. In long complaints he spends his breath, While hosts of hell, and powers of death, And all the sons of malice, join To execute their cursed design. Yet, gracious God, thy power and love Has made the curse a blessing prove; Those dreadful suff'rings of thy Son Atoned for sins which we had done. The pangs of our expiring Lord The honors of thy law restored; His sorrows made thy justice known, And paid for follies not his own. O for his sake our guilt forgive, And let the mourning sinner live; The Lord will hear us in his name, Nor shall our hope be turned to shame.
'Twas for thy sake, eternal God, Thy Son sustained that heavy load Of base reproach and sore disgrace, And shame defiled his sacred face. The Jews, his brethren and his kin, Abused the Man that checked their sin; While he fulfilled thy holy laws, They hate him, but without a cause. ["My Father's house," said he, "was made A place for worship, not for trade:" Then scatt'ring all their gold and brass He scourged the merchants from the place.] [Zeal for the temple of his God Consumed his life, exposed his blood; Reproaches at thy glory thrown He felt, and mourned them as his own.] [His friends forsook, his followers fled, While foes and arms surround his head; They curse him with a sland'rous tongue, And the false judge maintains the wrong.] His life they load with hateful lies, And charge his lips with blasphemies; They nail him to the shameful tree: There hung the Man that died for me. [Wretches with hearts as hard as stones Insult his piety and groans; Gall was the food they gave him there, And mocked his thirst with vinegar.] But God beheld, and from his throne Marks out the men that hate his Son; The hand that raised him from the dead, Shall pour the vengeance on their head.
Great God, whose universal sway The known and unknown worlds obey, Now give the kingdom to thy Son, Extend his power, exalt his throne. Thy sceptre well becomes his hands, All heav'n submits to his commands; His justice shall avenge the poor, And pride and rage prevail no more. With power be vindicates the just, And treads th' oppressor in the dust; His worship and his fear shall last, Till hours, and years, and time be past. As rain on meadows newly mown, So shall he send his influence down; His grace on fainting souls distils, Like heav'nly dew on thirsty hills. The heathen lands that lie beneath The shades of overspreading death, Revive at his first dawning light, And deserts blossom at the sight. The saints shall flourish in his days, Dressed in the robes of joy and praise Peace, like a river from his throne, Shall flow to nations yet unknown.
Jesus shall reign where'er the sun Does his successive journeys run; His kingdom stretch from shore to shore, Till moons shall wax and wane no more. [Behold the islands with their kings, And Europe her best tribute brings; From north to south the princes meet, To pay their homage at his feet. There Persia, glorious to behold, There India shines in eastern gold; And barb'rous nations at his word Submit, and bow, and own their Lord.] For him shall endless prayer be made, And praises throng to crown his head; His name like sweet perfume shall rise With every morning sacrifice. People and realms of every tongue Dwell on his love with sweetest song; And infant voices shall proclaim Their early blessings on his name. Blessings abound where'er he reigns, The pris'ner leaps to lose his chains; The weary find eternal rest, And all the sons of want are blest. [Where he displays his healing power Death and the curse are known no more; In him the tribes of Adam boast More blessings than their father lost. Let every creature rise and bring Peculiar honors to our King; Angels descend with songs again, And earth repeat the long Amen.]
Lord, what a thoughtless wretch was I, To mourn, and murmur, and repine, To see the wicked placed on high, In pride and robes of honor shine! But O their end, their dreadful end! Thy sanctuary taught me so; On slipp'ry rocks I see them stand, And fiery billows roll below. Now let them boast how tall they rise, I'll never envy them again; There they may stand with haughty eyes, Till they plunge deep in endless pain. Their fancied joys, how fast they flee! Just like a dream when man awakes; Their songs of softest harmony Are but a preface to their plagues. Now I esteem their mirth and wine Too dear to purchase with my blood; Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine, My life, my portion, and my God.
To thee, most Holy and most High, To thee we bring our thankful praise; Thy works declare thy name is nigh, Thy works of wonder and of grace. Britain was doomed to be a slave, Her frame dissolved, her fears were great; When God a new supporter gave, To bear the pillars of the state. He from thy hand received his crown, And sware to rule by wholesome laws; His foot shall tread th' oppressor down, His arm defend the righteous cause. Let haughty sinners sink their pride, Nor lift so high their scornful head; But lay their foolish thoughts aside, And own the king that God hath made. Such honors never come by chance, Nor do the winds promotion blow; 'Tis God the Judge doth one advance, 'Tis God that lays another low. No vain pretence to royal birth Shall fix a tyrant on the throne: God, the great Sovereign of the earth, Will rise and make his justice known. [His hand holds out the dreadful cup Of vengeance mixed with various plagues, To make the wicked drink them up, Wring out and taste the bitter dregs. Now shall the Lord exalt the just; And while he tramples on the proud, And lays their glory in the dust, My lips shall sing his praise aloud.]
Great God, how oft did Isr'el prove By turns thine anger and thy love! There in a glass our hearts may see How fickle and how false they be. How soon the faithless Jews forgot The dreadful wonders God had wrought! Then they provoke him to his face, Nor fear his power, nor trust his grace. The Lord consumed their years ill pain, And made their travels long and vain; A tedious march through unknown ways Wore out their strength, and spent their days. Oft when they saw their brethren slain They mourned, and sought the Lord again; Called him the Rock of their abode, Their high Redeemer, and their God. Their prayers and vows before him rise As flatt'ring words or solemn lies, While their rebellious tempers prove False to his cov'nant and his love. Yet did his sovereign grace forgive The men who not deserved to live; His anger oft away he turned, Or else with gentle flame it burned. He saw their flesh was weak and frail, He saw temptations still prevail; The God of Abram loved them still, And led them to his holy hill.
Great Shepherd of thine Israel, Who didst between the cherubs dwell, And lead the tribes, thy chosen sheep, Safe through the desert and the deep; Thy church is in the desert now, Shine from on high and guide us through; Turn us to thee, thy love restore, We shall be saved and sigh no more. Great God, whom heav'nly hosts obey, How long shall we lament and pray, And wait in vain thy kind return? How long shall thy fierce anger burn? Instead of wine and cheerful bread Thy saints with their own tears are fed: Turn us to thee, thy love restore, We shall be saved, and sigh no more. PAUSE I. Hast thou not planted with thy hands A lovely vine in heathen lands? Did not thy power defend it round, And heav'nly dews enrich the ground? How did the spreading branches shoot, And bless the nations with the fruit! But now, dear Lord, look down and see Thy mourning vine, that lovely tree. Why is its beauty thus defaced? Why hast thou laid her fences waste? Strangers and foes against her join, And every beast devours the vine. Return, Almighty God, return, Nor let thy bleeding vineyard mourn; Turn us to thee, thy love restore, We shall be saved, and sigh no more. PAUSE II. Lord, when this vine in Canaan grew, Thou wast its strength and glory too; Attacked in vain by all its foes, Till the fair Branch of Promise rose: Fair Branch, ordained of old to shoot From David's stock, from Jacob's root; Himself a noble vine, and we The lesser branches of the tree. 'Tis thy own Son; and he shall stand Girt with thy strength at thy right hand; Thy first-born Son, adorned and blest With power and grace above the rest. O for his sake attend our cry, Shine on thy churches lest they die; Turn us to thee, thy love restore, We shall be saved, and sigh no more.
Among th' assemblies of the great A greater Ruler takes his seat; The God of heav'n, as Judge, surveys Those gods on earth, and all their ways. Why will ye, then, frame wicked laws? Or why support th' unrighteous cause? When will ye once defend the poor, That sinners vex the saints no more? They know not, Lord, nor will they know; Dark are the ways in which they go; Their name of earthly gods is vain, For they shall fall and die like men. Arise, O Lord, and let thy Son Possess his universal throne, And rule the nations with his rod; He is our Judge, and he our God.
How pleasant, how divinely fair, O Lord of hosts, thy dwellings are! With long desire my spirit faints To meet th' assemblies of thy saints. My flesh would rest in thine abode, My panting heart cries out for God; My God! my King! why should I be So far from all my joys and thee? The sparrow chooses where to rest, And for her young provides her nest; But will my God to sparrows grant That pleasure which his children want? Blest are the saints who sit on high Around thy throne of majesty; Thy brightest glories shine above, And all their work is praise and love. Blest are the souls who find a place Within the temple of thy grace; There they behold thy gentler rays, And seek thy face, and learn thy praise. Blest are the men whose hearts are set To find the way to Zion's gate; God is their strength, and through the road They lean upon their helper God. Cheerful they walk with growing strength, Till all shall meet in heav'n at length, Till all before thy face appear, And join in nobler worship there.
Great God, attend, while Zion sings The joy that from thy presence springs: To spend one day with thee on earth Exceeds a thousand days of mirth. Might I enjoy the meanest place Within thy house, O God of grace, Not tents of ease, nor thrones of power, Should tempt my feet to leave thy door. God is our sun, he makes our day; God is our shield, he guards our way From all th' assaults of hell and sin, From foes without and foes within. All needful grace will God bestow, And crown that grace with glory too! He gives us all things, and withholds No real good from upright souls. O God, our King, whose sovereign sway The glorious hosts of heav'n obey, And devils at thy presence flee, Blest is the man that trusts in thee.
Lord, thou hast called thy grace to mind, Thou hast reversed our heavy doom; So God forgave when Isr'el sinned, And brought his wand'ring captives home. Thou hast begun to set us free, And made thy fiercest wrath abate; Now let our hearts be turned to thee, And thy salvation be complete. Revive our dying graces, Lord, And let thy saints in thee rejoice; Make known thy truth, fulfil thy word; We wait for praise to tune our voice. We wait to hear what God will say; He'll speak, and give his people peace; But let them run no more astray, Lest his returning wrath increase.
Salvation is for ever nigh The souls that fear and trust the Lord And grace descending from on high Fresh hopes of glory shall afford. Mercy and truth on earth are met, Since Christ the Lord came down from heav'n; By his obedience so complete, Justice is pleased, and peace is giv'n. Now truth and honor shall abound, Religion dwell on earth again, And heav'nly influence bless the ground In our Redeemer's gentle reign. His righteousness is gone before To give us free access to God; Our wand'ring feet shall stray no more, But mark his steps and keep the road.
God in his earthly temple lays Foundations for his heav'nly praise: He likes the tents of Jacob well, But still in Zion loves to dwell. His mercy visits every house That pay their night and morning vows; But makes a more delightful stay Where churches meet to praise and pray. What glories were described of old! What wonders are of Zion told! Thou city of our God below, Thy fame shall Tyre and Egypt know. Egypt and Tyre, and Greek and Jew, Shall there begin their lives anew; Angels and men shall join to sing The hill where living waters spring. When God makes up his last account Of natives in his holy mount, 'Twill be an honor to appear As one new-born or nourished there!
For ever shall my song record The truth and mercy of the Lord; Mercy and truth for ever stand, Like heav'n, established by his hand. Thus to his Son he sware, and said, "With thee my cov'nant first is made; In thee shall dying sinners live, Glory and grace are thine to give. "Be thou my Prophet, thou my Priest; Thy children shall be ever blest; Thou art my chosen King: thy throne Shall stand eternal like my own. "There's none of all my sons above So much my image or my love; Celestial powers thy subjects are: Then what can earth to thee compare? "David, my servant, whom I chose To guard my flock, to crush my foes, And raised him to the Jewish throne, Was but a shadow of my Son." Now let the church rejoice and sing Jesus, her Savior and her King; Angels his heav'nly wonders show, And saints declare his works below.
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'? 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? "Where is thy promise to the just? Are not thy servants turned to dust?" But faith forbids these mournful sighs, And sees the sleeping dust arise. That glorious hour, that dreadful day, Wipes the reproach of saints away, And clears the honor of thy word: Awake, our souls, and bless the Lord.
Through every age, eternal God, Thou art our rest, our safe abode; High was thy throne ere heav'n was made, Or earth thy humble footstool laid. Long hadst thou reigned ere time began, Or dust was fashioned to a man; And long thy kingdom shall endure When earth and time shall be no more. But man, weak man, is born to die, Made up of guilt and vanity; Thy dreadful sentence, Lord, was just, "Return, ye sinners, to your dust." [A thousand of our years amount Scarce to a day in thine account; Like yesterday's departed light, Or the last watch of ending night. PAUSE. Death, like an overflowing stream, Sweeps us away; our life's a dream, An empty tale, a morning flower, Cut down and withered in an hour.] [Our age to seventy years is set; How short the time! how frail the state! And if to eighty we arrive, We rather sigh and groan than live. But O how oft thy wrath appears, And cuts off our expected years! Thy wrath awakes our humble dread; We fear the power that strikes us dead.] Teach us, O Lord, how frail is man; And kindly lengthen out our span, Till a wise care of piety Fit us to die, and dwell with thee.
He that hath made his refuge God Shall find a most secure abode, Shall walk all day beneath his shade, And there at night shall rest his head. Then will I say, "My God, thy power Shall be my fortress and my tower; I, that am formed of feeble dust, Make thine almighty arm my trust." Thrice happy man! thy Maker's care Shall keep thee from the fowler's snare; Satan, the fowler, who betrays Unguarded souls a thousand ways. Just as a hen protects her brood From birds of prey that seek their blood, Under her feathers, so the Lord Makes his own arm his people's guard. If burning beams of noon conspire To dart a pestilential fire, God is their life; his wings are spread To shield them with a healthful shade. If vapors with malignant breath Rise thick, and scatter midnight death, Isr'el is safe; the poisoned air Grows pure, if Isr'el's God be there. PAUSE. What though a thousand at thy side, At thy right hand ten thousand died, Thy God his chosen people saves Amongst the dead, amidst the graves. So when he sent his angel down To make his wrath in Egypt known, And slew their sons, his careful eye Passed all the doors of Jacob by. But if the fire, or plague, or sword, Receive commission from the Lord To strike his saints among the rest, Their very pains and deaths are blest. The sword, the pestilence, or fire, Shall but fulfil their best desire; From sins and sorrows set them free, And bring thy children, Lord, to thee.
Sweet is the work, my God, my King, To praise thy name, give thanks and sing, To show thy love by morning light, And talk of all thy truth at night. Sweet is the day of sacred rest, No mortal cares shall seize my breast; O may my heart in tune be found, Like David's harp of solemn sound! My heart shall triumph in my Lord, And bless his works, and bless his word; Thy works of grace, how bright they shine! How deep thy counsels! how divine! Fools never raise their thoughts so high; Like brutes they live, like brutes they die; Like grass they flourish, till thy breath Blast them in everlasting death. But I shall share a glorious part When grace hath well refined my heart; And fresh supplies of joy are shed, Like holy oil, to cheer my head. Sin (my worst enemy before) Shall vex my eyes and ears no more; My inward foes shall all be slain, Nor Satan break my peace again. Then shall I see, and hear, and know All I desired or wished below; And every power find sweet employ In that eternal world of joy.
Lord, 'tis a pleasant thing to stand In gardens planted by thine hand; Let me within thy courts be seen, Like a young cedar, fresh and green. There grow thy saints in faith and love, Blest with thine influence from above; Not Lebanon with all its trees Yields such a comely sight as these. The plants of grace shall ever live; (Nature decays, but grace must thrive;) Time, that doth all things else impair, Still makes them flourish strong and fair. Laden with fruits of age, they show The Lord is holy, just, and true; None that attend his gates shall find A God unfaithful or unkind.
Jehovah reigns; he dwells in light, Girded with majesty and might: The world, created by his hands, Still on its first foundation stands. But ere this spacious world was made, Or had its first foundation laid, Thy throne eternal ages stood, Thyself the ever-living God. Like floods, the angry nations rise, And aim their rage against the skies; Vain floods, that aim their rage so high! At thy rebuke the billows die. For ever shall thy throne endure; Thy promise stands for ever sure; And everlasting holiness Becomes the dwellings of thy grace.
Come, let our voices join to raise A sacred song of solemn praise; God is a sovereign King, rehearse His honors in exalted verse. Come, let our souls address the Lord, Who framed our natures with his word; He is our Shepherd; we the sheep His mercy chose, his pastures keep. Come, let us hear his voice today, The counsels of his love obey; Nor let our hardened hearts renew The sins and plagues that Isr'el knew. Isr'el, that saw his works of grace, Yet tempt their Maker to his face; A faithless, unbelieving brood, That tired the patience of their God. Thus saith the Lord: "How false they prove Forget my power, abuse my love! Since they despise my rest, I swear, Their feet shall never enter there." [Look back, my soul, with holy dread, And view those ancient rebels dead; Attend the offered grace today, Nor lose the blessing by delay. Seize the kind promise while it waits, And march to Zion's heav'nly gates: Believe, and take the promised rest; Obey, and be for ever blest.]
He reigns! the Lord, the Savior reigns; Praise him in evangelic strains Let the whole earth in songs rejoice, And distant islands join their voice. Deep are his counsels, and unknown, But grace and truth support his throne; Though gloomy clouds his ways surround, Justice is their eternal ground. In robes of judgment, lo! he comes, Shakes the wide earth and cleaves the tombs; Before him burns devouring fire; The mountains melt, the seas retire. His enemies, with sore dismay, Fly from the sight, and shun the day; Then lift your heads, ye saints, on high, And sing, for your redemption's nigh.
The Lord is come; the heav'ns proclaim His birth; the nations learn his name; An unknown star directs the road Of eastern sages to their God. All ye bright armies of the skies, Go, worship where the Savior lies; Angels and kings before him bow, Those gods on high and gods below. Let idols totter to the ground, And their own worshippers confound But Judah shout, but Zion sing, And earth confess her sovereign King.
Th' Almighty reigns exalted high O'er all the earth, o'er all the sky; Though clouds and darkness veil his feet, His dwelling is the mercy-seat. O ye that love his holy name, Hate every work of sin and shame; He guards the souls of all his friends, And from the snares of hell defends. Immortal light and joys unknown Are for the saints in darkness sown Those glorious seeds shall spring and rise, And the bright harvest bless our eyes. Rejoice, ye righteous, and record The sacred honors of the Lord: None but the soul that feels his grace Can triumph in his holiness.
Ye nations round the earth, rejoice Before the Lord, your sovereign King; Serve him with cheerful heart and voice, With all your tongues his glory sing. The Lord is God; 'tis he alone Doth life, and breath, and being give; We are his work, and not our own, The sheep that on his pastures live. Enter his gates with songs of joy, With praises to his courts repair; And make it your divine employ To pay your thanks and honors there. The Lord is good, the Lord is kind, Great is his grace, his mercy sure; And the whole race of man shall find His truth from age to age endure.
Sing to the Lord with joyful voice, Let every land his name adore; The British isles shall send the noise Across the ocean to the shore. Nations, attend before his throne With solemn fear, with sacred joy; Know that the Lord is God alone; He can create and he destroy. His sovereign power, without our aid, Made us of clay and formed us men; And when, like wand'ring sheep, we strayed, He brought us to his fold again. We are his people, we his care, Our souls and all our mortal frame: What lasting honors shall we rear, Almighty Maker, to thy name? We'll crowd thy gates with thankful songs, High as the heav'ns our voices raise; And earth with her ten thousand tongues Shall fill thy courts with sounding praise. Wide as the world is thy command, Vast as eternity thy love! Firm as a rock thy truth must stand, When rolling years shall cease to move.
Mercy and judgment are my song; And since they both to thee belong, My gracious God, my righteous King, To thee my songs and vows I bring. If I am raised to bear the sword, I'll take my counsels from thy word; Thy justice and thy heav'nly grace Shall be the pattern of my ways. Let wisdom all my actions guide, And let my God with me reside; No wicked thing shall dwell with me Which may provoke thy jealousy. No sons of slander, rage, and strife Shall be companions of my life; The haughty look, the heart of pride, Within my doors shall ne'er abide. [I'll search the land, and raise the just To posts of honor, wealth, and trust; The men that work thy holy will Shall be my friends and fav'rites still.] In vain shall sinners hope to rise By flatt'ring or malicious lies; And while the innocent I guard, The bold offender sha'n't be spared. The impious crew, that factious band, Shall hide their heads or quit the land; And all that break the public rest, Where I have power, shall be suppressed.
It is the Lord our Savior's hand Weakens our strength amidst the race; Disease and death at his command Arrest us, and cut short our days. Spare us, O Lord, aloud we pray, Nor let our sun go down at noon; Thy years are one eternal day, And must thy children die so soon? Yet in the midst of death and grief This thought our sorrow should assuage: Our Father and our Savior live; Christ is the same through every age. 'Twas he this earth's foundation laid; Heav'n is the building of his hand; This earth grows old, these heav'ns shall fade And all be changed at his command. The starry curtains of the sky, Like garments, shall be laid aside; But still thy throne stands firm on high, Thy church for ever must abide. Before thy face thy church shall live, And on thy throne thy children reign; This dying world shall they survive, And the dead saints be raised again.
Bless, O my soul, the living God, Call home thy thoughts that rove abroad; Let all the powers within me join In work and worship so divine. Bless, O my soul, the God of grace; His favors claim thy highest praise: Why should the wonders he hath wrought Be lost in silence and forgot? 'Tis he, my soul, that sent his Son To die for crimes which thou hast done; He owns the ransom, and forgives The hourly follies of our lives. The vices of the mind he heals, And cures the pains that nature feels Redeems the soul from hell, and saves Our wasting life from threat'ning graves. Our youth decayed, his power repairs; His mercy crowns our growing years; He satisfies our mouth with good, And fills our hopes with heav'nly food. He sees th' oppressor and th' oppressed, And often gives the suff'rers rest; But will his justice more display In the last great rewarding day. [His power he showed by Moses' hands, And gave to Isr'el his commands; But sent his truth and mercy down To all the nations by his Son. Let the whole earth his power confess, Let the whole earth adore his grace; The Gentile with the Jew shall join In work and worship so divine.]
The Lord, how wondrous are his ways! How firm his truth! how large his grace! He takes his mercy for his throne, And thence he makes his glories known. Not half so high his power hath spread The starry heav'ns above our head, As his rich love exceeds our praise, Exceeds the highest hopes we raise. Not half so far hath nature placed The rising morning from the west, As his forgiving grace removes The daily guilt of those he loves. How slowly doth his wrath arise! On swifter wings salvation flies; And if he lets his anger burn, How soon his frowns to pity turn. Amidst his wrath compassion shines; His strokes are lighter than our sins And while his rod corrects his saints, His ear indulges their complaints. So fathers their young sons chastise With gentle hand and melting eyes; The children weep beneath the smart, And move the pity of their heart. PAUSE. The mighty God, the wise and just, Knows that our frame is feeble dust; And will no heavy loads impose Beyond the strength that he bestows. He knows how soon our nature dies, Blasted by every wind that flies; Like grass we spring, and die as soon, Or morning flowers that fade at noon. But his eternal love is sure To all the saints, and shall endure; From age to age his truth shall reign, Nor children's children hope in vain.
My soul, thy great Creator praise: When clothed in his celestial rays, He in full majesty appears, And, like a robe, his glory wears. The heav'ns are for his curtains spread, The unfathomed deep he makes his bed. Clouds are his chariot when he flies On winged storms across the skies. Angels, whom his own breath inspires, His ministers, are flaming fires; And swift as thought their armies move To bear his vengeance or his love. The world's foundations by his hand Are poised, and shall for ever stand; He binds the ocean in his chain, Lest it should drown the earth again. When earth was covered with the flood, Which high above the mountains stood, He thundered, and the ocean fled, Confined to its appointed bed. The swelling billows know their bound, And in their channels walk their round; Yet thence conveyed by secret veins, They spring on hills and drench the plains. He bids the crystal fountains flow, And cheer the valleys as they go; Tame heifers there their thirst allay, And for the stream wild asses bray. From pleasant trees which shade the brink, The lark and linnet light to drink Their songs the lark and linnet raise, And chide our silence in his praise. PAUSE I. God from his cloudy cistern pours On the parched earth enriching showers; The grove, the garden, and the field, A thousand joyful blessings yield. He makes the grassy food arise, And gives the cattle large supplies With herbs for man of various power, To nourish nature or to dire. What noble fruit the vines produce! The olive yields a shining juice; Our hearts are cheered with gen'rous wine, With inward joy our faces shine. O bless his name, ye Britons, fed With nature's chief supporter, bread; While bread your vital strength imparts, Serve him with vigor in your hearts. PAUSE II. Behold, the stately cedar stands, Raised in the forest by his hands; Birds to the boughs for shelter fly, And build their nests secure on high. To craggy hills ascends the goat, And at the airy mountain's foot The feebler creatures make their cell; He gives them wisdom where to dwell. He sets the sun his circling race, Appoints the moon to change her face; And when thick darkness veils the day, Calls out wild beasts to hunt their prey. Fierce lions lead their young abroad, And, roaring, ask their meat from God; But when the morning beams arise, The savage beast to covert flies. Then man to daily labor goes; The night was made for his repose; Sleep is thy gift, that sweet relief From tiresome toil and wasting grief. How strange thy works! how great thy skill! And every land thy riches fill: Thy wisdom round the world we see; This spacious earth is full of thee. Nor less thy glories in the deep, Where fish in millions swim and creep With wondrous motions, swift or slow, Still wand'ring in the paths below. There ships divide their wat'ry way, And flocks of scaly monsters play; There dwells the huge leviathan, And foams and sports in spite of man. PAUSE III. Vast are thy works, Almighty Lord; All nature rests upon thy word, And the whole race of creatures stands Waiting their portion from thy hands. While each receives his diff'rent food, Their cheerful looks pronounce it good: Eagles and bears, and whales and worms, Rejoice and praise in diff'rent forms. But when thy face is hid, they mourn, And, dying, to their dust return; Both man and beast their souls resign; Life, breath, and spirit, all is thine. Yet thou canst breathe on dust again, And fill the world with beasts and men; A word of thy creating breath Repairs the wastes of time and death. His works, the wonders of his might, Are honored with his own delight; How awful are his glorious ways! The Lord is dreadful in his praise. The earth stands trembling at thy stroke, And at thy touch the mountains smoke; Yet humble souls may see thy face, And tell their wants to sovereign grace. In thee my hopes and wishes meet, And make my meditations sweet; Thy praises shall my breath employ, Till it expire in endless joy. While haughty sinners die accursed, Their glory buried with their dust, I to my God, my heav'nly King, Immortal hallelujahs sing.
To God, the great, the ever-blest, Let songs of honor be addressed; His mercy firm for ever stands Give him the thanks his love demands. Who knows the wonders of thy ways? Who shall fulfil thy boundless praise? Blest are the souls that fear thee still, And pay their duty to thy will. Remember what thy mercy did For Jacob's race, thy chosen seed; And with the same salvation bless The meanest suppliant of thy grace. O may I see thy tribes rejoice, And aid their triumphs with my voice! This is my glory, Lord, to be Joined to thy saints, and near to thee.
Give thanks to God; he reigns above; Kind are his thoughts, his name is Love; His mercy ages past have known, And ages long to come shall own. Let the redeemed of the Lord The wonders of his grace record; Isr'el, the nation whom he chose, And rescued from their mighty foes. [When God's almighty arm had broke Their fetters and th' Egyptian yoke, They traced the desert, wand'ring round A wild and solitary ground. There they could find no leading road, Nor city for a fixed abode; Nor food, nor fountain, to assuage Their burning thirst or hunger's rage.] In their distress, to God they cried God was their Savior and their Guide; He led their march far wand'ring round, 'Twas the right path to Canaan's ground. Thus, when our first release we gain From sin's old yoke, and Satan's chain, We have this desert world to pass, A dangerous and a tiresome place. He feeds and clothes us all the way, He guides our footsteps lest we stray, He guards us with a powerful hand, And brings us to the heav'nly land. O let the saints with joy record The truth and goodness of the Lord! How great his works! how kind his ways! Let every tongue pronounce his praise.
From age to age exalt his name; God and his grace are still the same; He fills the hungry soul with food, And feeds the poor with every good. But if their hearts rebel and rise Against the God that rules the skies; If they reject his heav'nly word, And slight the counsels of the Lord. He'll bring their spirits to the ground, And no deliv'rer shall be found; Laden with grief, they waste their breath In darkness and the shades of death. Then to the Lord they raise their cries; He makes the dawning light arise, And scatters all that dismal shade That hung so heavy round their head. He cuts the bars of brass in two, And lets the smiling pris'ners through; Takes off the load of guilt and grief, And gives the lab'ring soul relief. O may the sons of men record The wondrous goodness of the Lord How great his works! how kind his ways! Let every tongue pronounce his praise.
Vain man, on foolish pleasures bent, Prepares for his own punishment; What pains, what loathsome maladies, From luxury and lust arise! The drunkard feels his vitals waste, Yet drowns his health to please his taste; Till all his active powers are lost, And fainting life draws near the dust. The glutton groans, and loathes to eat, His soul abhors delicious meat; Nature, with heavy loads oppressed, Would yield to death to be released. Then how the frighted sinners fly To God for help with earnest cry! He hears their groans, prolongs their breath, And saves them from approaching death. No med'cines could effect the cure So quick, so easy, or so sure; The deadly sentence God repeals, He sends his sovereign word, and heals. O may the sons of men record The wondrous goodness of the Lord! And let their thankful off'rings prove How they adore their Maker's love.
Would you behold the works of God, His wonders in the world abroad, Go with the mariners, and trace The unknown regions of the seas. They leave their native shores behind, And seize the favor of the wind; Till God command, and tempests rise That heave the ocean to the skies. Now to the heav'ns they mount amain, Now sink to dreadful deeps again; What strange affrights young sailors feel, And like a stagg'ring drunkard reel! When land is far, and death is nigh, Lost to all hope, to God they cry; His mercy hears the loud address, And sends salvation in distress. He bids the winds their wrath assuage, The furious waves forget their rage; 'Tis calm, and sailors smile to see The haven where they wished to be. O may the sons of men record The wondrous goodness of the Lord! Let them their private off'rings bring, And in the church his glory sing.
When God, provoked with daring crimes, Scourges the madness of the times, He turns their fields to barren sand, And dries the rivers from the land. His word can raise the springs again, And make the withered mountains green; Send showery blessings from the skies, And harvests in the desert rise. [Where nothing dwelt but beasts of prey, Or men as fierce and wild as they, He bids th' oppressed and poor repair, And builds them towns and cities there. They sow the fields, and trees they plant, Whose yearly fruit supplies their want; Their race grows up from fruitful stocks, Their wealth increases with their flocks. Thus they are blessed; but if they sin, He lets the heathen nations in; A savage crew invades their lands, Their princes die by barb'rous hands. Their captive sons, exposed to scorn, Wander unpitied and forlorn; The country lies unfenced, untilled, And desolation spreads the field. Yet if the humbled nation mourns, Again his dreadful hand he turns; Again he makes their cities thrive, And bids the dying churches live.] The righteous, with a joyful sense, Admire the works of Providence; And tongues of atheists shall no more Blaspheme the God that saints adore. How few with pious care record These wondrous dealings of the Lord! But wise observers still shall find The Lord is holy, just, and kind.
Thus the eternal Father spake To Christ the Son: "Ascend and sit At my right hand, till I shall make Thy foes submissive at thy feet. "From Zion shall thy word proceed; Thy word, the sceptre in thy hand, Shall make the hearts of rebels bleed, And bow their wills to thy command. "That day shall show thy power is great, When saints shall flock with willing minds, And sinners crowd thy temple gate, Where holiness in beauty shines." O blessed power! O glorious day! What a large vict'ry shall ensue! And converts, who thy grace obey, Exceed the drops of morning dew.
Thus the great Lord of earth and sea Spake to his Son, and thus he swore: "Eternal shall thy priesthood be, And change from hand to hand no more. "Aaron and all his sons must die; But everlasting life is thine, To save for ever those that fly For refuge from the wrath divine. "By me Melchizedek was made On earth a king and priest at once; And thou, my heav'nly Priest, shalt plead, And thou, my King, shalt rule my sons. Jesus the Priest ascends his throne, While counsels of eternal peace, Between the Father and the Son, Proceed with honor and success. Through the whole earth his reign shall spread, And crush the powers that dare rebel; Then shall he judge the rising dead, And send the guilty world to hell. Though while he treads his glorious way, He drinks the cup of tears and blood, The suff'rings of that dreadful day Shall but advance him near to God.
Thrice happy man who fears the Lord, Loves his commands, and trusts his word; Honor and peace his days attend, And blessings to his seed descend. Compassion dwells upon his mind, To works of mercy still inclined; He lends the poor some present aid, Or gives them, not to be repaid. When times grow dark, and tidings spread That fill his neighbors round with dread, His heart is armed against the fear, For God with all his power is there. His soul, well fixed upon the Lord, Draws heav'nly courage from his word; Amidst the darkness light shall rise, To cheer his heart and bless his eyes. He hath dispersed his alms abroad; His works are still before his God; His name on earth shall long remain, While envious sinners fret in vain.
Ye servants of th' Almighty King, In every age his praises sing; Where'er the sun shall rise or set, The nations shall his praise repeat. Above the earth, beyond the sky, Stands his high throne of majesty; Nor time nor place his power restrain, Nor bound his universal reign. Which of the sons of Adam dare, Or angels, with their God compare? His glories how divinely bright, Who dwells in uncreated light! Behold his love! he stoops to view What saints above and angels do; And condescends yet more to know The mean affairs of men below. From dust and cottages obscure, His grace exalts the humble poor; Gives them the honor of his sons, And fits them for their heav'nly thrones. [A word of his creating voice Can make the barren house rejoice; Though Sarah's ninety years were past, The promised seed is born at last. With joy the mother views her son, And tells the wonders God has done: Faith may grow strong when sense despairs, If nature fails, the promise bears.]
When Isr'el, freed from Pharaoh's hand, Left the proud tyrant and his land, The tribes with cheerful homage own Their King, and Judah was his throne. Across the deep their journey lay; The deep divides to make them way; Jordan beheld their march, and fled With backward current to his head. The mountains shook like frighted sheep, Like lambs the little hillocks leap; Not Sinai on her base could stand, Conscious of sovereign power at hand. What power could make the deep divide? Make Jordan backward roll his tide? Why did ye leap, ye little hills? And whence the fright that Sinai feels? Let every mountain, every flood, Retire and know th' approaching God, The King of Isr'el: see him here; Tremble, thou earth, adore and fear. He thunders, and all nature mourns; The rock to standing pools he turns; Flints spring with fountains at his word, And fires and seas confess the Lord.
Not to ourselves, who are but dust, Not to ourselves is glory due, Eternal God, thou only just, Thou only gracious, wise, and true. Shine forth in all thy dreadful name; Why should a heathen's haughty tongue Insult us, and, to raise our shame, Say, "Where's the God you've served so long?" The God we serve maintains his throne Above the clouds, beyond the skies; Through all the earth his will is done; He knows our groans, he hears our cries. But the vain idols they adore Are senseless shapes of stone and wood; At best a mass of glitt'ring ore, A silver saint or golden god. [With eyes and ears they carve their head; Deaf are their ears, their eyes are blind; In vain are costly off'rings made, And vows are scattered in the wind. Their feet were never made to move, Nor hands to save when mortals pray; Mortals that pay them fear or love Seem to be blind and deaf as they.] O Isr'el! make the Lord thy hope, Thy help, thy refuge, and thy rest; The Lord shall build thy ruins up, And bless the people and the priest. The dead no more can speak thy praise, They dwell in silence and the grave; But we shall live to sing thy grace, And tell the world thy power to save.
From all that dwell below the skies Let the Creator's praise arise; Let the Redeemer's name be sung Through every land, by every tongue. Eternal are thy mercies, Lord, Eternal truth attends thy word; Thy praise shall sound from shore to shore, Till suns shall rise and set no more.
Lo! what a glorious corner-stone The Jewish builders did refuse; But God hath built his church thereon, In spite of envy and the Jews. Great God, the work is all divine, The joy and wonder of our eyes; This is the day that proves it thine, The day that saw our Savior rise. Sinners, rejoice; and saints, be glad; Hosanna, let his name be blest; A thousand honors on his head, With peace, and light, and glory rest! In God's own name he comes to bring Salvation to our dying race; Let the whole church address their King With hearts of joy and songs of praise.
Up to the hills I lift mine eyes, Th' eternal hills beyond the skies; Thence all her help my soul derives; There my Almighty refuge lives. He lives; the everlasting God, That built the world, that spread the flood; The heav'ns with all their hosts he made, And the dark regions of the dead. He guides our feet, he guards our way; His morning smiles bless all the day; He spreads the evening veil, and keeps The silent hours while Isr'el sleeps. Isr'el, a name divinely blest, May rise secure, securely rest; Thy holy Guardian's wakeful eyes Admit no slumber nor surprise. No sun shall smite thy head by day, Nor the pale moon with sickly ray Shall blast thy couch; no baleful star Dart his malignant fire so far. Should earth and hell with malice burn, Still thou shalt go, and still return, Safe in the Lord; his heav'nly care Defends thy life from every snare. On thee foul spirits have no power; And in thy last departing hour, Angels that trace the airy road Shall bear thee homeward to thy God.
Had not the Lord, may Isr'el say, Had not the Lord maintained our side, When men, to make our lives a prey, Rose like the swelling of the tide; The swelling tide had stopped our breath, So fiercely did the waters roll, We had been swallowed deep in death; Proud waters had o'erwhelmed our soul. We leap for joy, we shout and sing, Who just escaped the fatal stroke; So flies the bird with cheerful wing, When once the fowler's snare is broke. For ever blessed be the Lord, Who broke the fowler's cursed snare, Who saved us from the murd'ring sword, And made our lives and souls his care. Our help is in Jehovah's name, Who formed the earth and built the skies: He that upholds that wondrous frame Guards his own church with watchful eyes.
When God restored our captive state, Joy was our song, and grace our theme; The grace beyond our hopes so great That joy appeared a painted dream. The scoffer owns thy hand, and pays Unwilling honors to thy name; While we with pleasure shout thy praise, With cheerful notes thy love proclaim. When we review our dismal fears, 'Twas hard to think they'd vanish so; With God we left our flowing tears, He makes our joys like rivers flow. The man that in his furrowed field His scattered seed with sadness leaves, Will shout to see the harvest yield A welcome load of joyful sheaves.
If God succeed not, all the cost And pains to build the house are lost; If God the city will not keep, The watchful guards as well may sleep. What if you rise before the sun, And work and toil when day is done; Careful and sparing eat your bread, To shun that poverty you dread; 'Tis all in vain, till God hath blessed; He can make rich, yet give us rest: Children and friends are blessings too, If God our Sovereign make them so. Happy the man to whom he sends Obedient children, faithful friends: How sweet our daily comforts prove When they are seasoned with his love!
From deep distress and troubled thoughts To thee, my God, I raised my cries; If thou severely mark our faults, No flesh can stand before thine eyes. But thou hast built thy throne of grace Free to dispense thy pardons there, That sinners may approach thy face, And hope and love, as well as fear. As the benighted pilgrims wait, And long, and wish for breaking day, So waits my soul before thy gate; When will my God his face display? My trust is fixed upon thy word, Nor shall I trust thy word in vain; Let mourning souls address the Lord, And find relief from all their pain. Great is his love, and large his grace, Through the redemption of his Son; He turns our feet from sinful ways, And pardons what our hands have done.
Where shall we go to seek and find An habitation for our God, A dwelling for th' Eternal Mind, Among the sons of flesh and blood? The God of Jacob chose the hill Of Zion for his ancient rest; And Zion is his dwelling still, His church is with his presence blessed. Here will I fix my gracious throne, And reign for ever, saith the Lord; Here shall my power and love be known, And blessings shall attend my word. Here will I meet the hungry poor, And fill their souls with living bread; Sinners that wait before my door With sweet provision shall be fed. Girded with truth, and clothed with grace, My priests, my ministers, shall shine Not Aaron in his costly dress Made an appearance so divine. The saints, unable to contain Their inward joys, shall shout and sing; The Son of David here shall reign, And Zion triumph in her King. [Jesus shall see a num'rous seed Born here t' uphold his glorious name; His crown shall flourish on his head, While all his foes are clothed with shame.]
Praise ye the Lord, exalt his name, While in his holy courts ye wait, Ye saints, that to his house belong, Or stand attending at his gate. Praise ye the Lord, the Lord is good; To praise his name is sweet employ: Isr'el he chose of old, and still His church is his peculiar joy. The Lord himself will judge his saints; He treats his servants as his friends; And when he hears their sore complaints, Repents the sorrows that he sends. Through every age the Lord declares His name, and breaks th' oppressor's rod He gives his suff'ring servants rest, And will be known th' Almighty God. Bless ye the Lord, who taste his love, People and priest, exalt his name: Amongst his saints he ever dwells; His church is his Jerusalem.
Great is the Lord, exalted high Above all powers and every throne: Whate'er he please, in earth or sea, Or heav'n or hell, his hand hath done. At his command the vapors rise, The lightnings flash, the thunders roar; He pours the rain, he brings the wind And tempest from his airy store. 'Twas he those dreadful tokens sent, O Egypt, through thy stubborn land, When all thy first-born, beasts and men, Fell dead by his avenging hand. What mighty nations, mighty kings, He slew, and their whole country gave To Isr'el, whom his hand redeemed, No more to be proud Pharaoh's slave! His power the same, the same his grace, That saves us from the hosts of hell; And heav'n he gives us to possess, Whence those apostate angels fell.
Give to our God immortal praise; Mercy and truth are all his ways: Wonders of grace to God belong, Repeat his mercies in your song. Give to the Lord of lords renown, The King of kings with glory crown: His mercies ever shall endure, When lords and kings are known no more. He built the earth, he spread the sky, And fixed the starry lights on high: Wonders of grace to God belong, Repeat his mercies in your song. He fills the sun with morning light; He bids the moon direct the night: His mercies ever shall endure, When suns and moons shall shine no more. The Jews he freed from Pharaoh's hand, And brought them to the promised land Wonders of grace to God belong, Repeat his mercies in your song. He saw the Gentiles dead in sin, And felt his pity work within His mercies ever shall endure, When death and sin shall reign no more. He sent his Son with power to save From guilt, and darkness, and the grave Wonders of grace to God belong, Repeat his mercies in your song. Through this vain world he guides our feet, And leads us to his heav'nly seat His mercies ever shall endure, When this vain world shall be no more.
[With all my powers of heart and tongue I'll praise my Maker in my song: Angels shall hear the notes I raise, Approve the song, and join the praise. Angels that make thy church their care Shall witness my devotions there, While holy zeal directs my eyes To thy fair temple in the skies.] I'll sing thy truth and mercy, Lord, I'll sing the wonders of thy word; Not all thy works and names below So much thy power and glory show. To God I cried when troubles rose; He heard me, and subdued my foes; He did my rising fears control, And strength diffused through all my soul. The God of heav'n maintains his state, Frowns on the proud, and scorns the great; But from his throne descends to see The sons of humble poverty. Amidst a thousand snares I stand, Upheld and guarded by thy hand; Thy words my fainting soul revive, And keep my dying faith alive. Grace will complete what grace begins, To save from sorrows or from sins The work that wisdom undertakes Eternal mercy ne'er forsakes.
Lord, thou hast searched and seen me through, Thine eye commands with piercing view My rising and my resting hours, My heart and flesh with all their powers. My thoughts, before they are my own, Are to my God distinctly known; He knows the words I mean to speak Ere from my op'ning lips they break. Within thy circling power I stand; On every side I find thy hand; Awake, asleep, at home, abroad, I am surrounded still with God. Amazing knowledge, vast and great! What large extent! what lofty height! My soul, with all the powers I boast, Is in the boundless prospect lost. O may these thoughts possess my breast, Where'er I rove, where'er I rest! Nor let my weaker passions dare Consent to sin, for God is there. PAUSE I. Could I so false, so faithless prove, To quit thy service and thy love, Where, Lord, could I thy presence shun. Or from thy dreadful glory run? If up to heav'n I take my flight, 'Tis there thou dwell'st enthroned in light Or dive to hell, there vengeance reigns, And Satan groans beneath thy chains. If, mounted on a morning ray, I fly beyond the western sea, Thy swifter hand would first arrive, And there arrest thy fugitive. Or should I try to shun thy sight Beneath the spreading veil of night, One glance of thine, one piercing ray, Would kindle darkness into day. O may these thoughts possess my breast, Where'er I rove, where'er I rest! Nor let my weaker passions dare Consent to sin, for God is there. PAUSE II. The veil of night is no disguise, No screen from thy all-searching eyes; Thy hand can seize thy foes as soon Through midnight shades as blazing noon. Midnight and noon in this agree, Great God, they're both alike to thee; Not death can hide what God will spy, And hell lies naked to his eye. O may these thoughts possess my breast, Where'er I rove, where'er I rest! Nor let my weaker passions dare Consent to sin, for God is there.
'Twas from thy hand, my God, I came, A work of such a curious frame In me thy fearful wonders shine, And each proclaims thy skill divine. Thine eyes did all my limbs survey, Which yet in dark confusion lay; Thou saw'st the daily growth they took, Formed by the model of thy book. By thee my growing parts were named, And what thy sovereign counsels framed- The breathing lungs, the beating heart- Was copied with unerring art. At last, to show my Maker's name, God stamped his image on my frame, And in some unknown moment joined The finished members to the mind. There the young seeds of thought began, And all the passions of the man: Great God, our infant nature pays Immortal tribute to thy praise. PAUSE. Lord, since in my advancing age I've acted on life's busy stage, Thy thoughts of love to me surmount The power of numbers to recount. I could survey the ocean o'er, And count each sand that makes the shore, Before my swiftest thoughts could trace The num'rous wonders of thy grace. These on my heart are still impressed, With these I give my eyes to rest; And at my waking hour I find God and his love possess my mind.
My God, what inward grief I feel When impious men transgress thy will! I mourn to hear their lips profane Take thy tremendous name in vain. Does not my soul detest and hate The sons of malice and deceit? Those that oppose thy laws and thee, I count them enemies to me. Lord, search my soul, try every thought; Though my own heart accuse me not Of walking in a false disguise, I beg the trial of thine eyes. Doth secret mischief lurk within? Do I indulge some unknown sin? O turn my feet whene'er I stray, And lead me in thy perfect way.
My God, accept my early vows, Like morning incense in thine house; And let my nightly worship rise Sweet as the evening sacrifice. Watch o'er my lips, and guard them, Lord, From every rash and heedless word; Nor let my feet incline to tread The guilty path where sinners lead. O may the righteous, when I stray, Smite, and reprove my wand'ring way! Their gentle words, like ointment shed, Shall never bruise, but cheer my head. When I behold them pressed with grief, I'll cry to heav'n for their relief; And by my warm petitions prove How much I prize their faithful love.
My righteous Judge, my gracious God, Hear when I spread my hands abroad, And cry for succor from thy throne; O make thy truth and mercy known! Let judgment not against me pass; Behold, thy servant pleads thy grace: Should justice call us to thy bar, No man alive is guiltless there. Look down in pity, Lord, and see The mighty woes that burden me; Down to the dust my life is brought, Like one long buried and forgot. I dwell in darkness and unseen, My heart is desolate within My thoughts in musing silence trace The ancient wonders of thy grace. Thence I derive a glimpse of hope To bear my sinking spirits up; I stretch my hands to God again, And thirst like parched lands for rain. For thee I thirst, I pray, I mourn: When will thy smiling face return? Shall all my joys on earth remove? And God for ever hide his love? My God, thy long delay to save Will sink thy pris'ner to the grave; My heart grows faint, and dim mine eye; Make haste to help before I die. The night is witness to my tears, Distressing pains, distressing fears; O might I hear thy morning voice, How would my wearied powers rejoice! In thee I trust, to thee I sigh, And lift my heavy soul on high; For thee sit waiting all the day, And wear the tiresome hours away. Break off my fetters, Lord, and show Which is the path my feet should go; If snares and foes beset the road, I flee to hide me near my God. Teach me to do thy holy will, And lead me to thy heav'nly hill; Let the good Spirit of thy love Conduct me to thy courts above. Then shall my soul no more complain, The tempter then shall rage in vain; And flesh, that was my foe before, Shall never vex my spirit more.
Happy the city where their sons, Like pillars round a palace set, And daughters, bright as polished stones, Give strength and beauty to the state. Happy the country where the sheep, Cattle, and corn, have large increase; Where men securely work or sleep, Nor sons of plunder break the peace. Happy the nation thus endowed, But more divinely blest are those On whom the all-sufficient God Himself with all his grace bestows.
My God, my King, thy various praise Shall fill the remnant of my days; Thy grace employ my humble tongue Till death and glory raise the song. The wings of every hour shall bear Some thankful tribute to thine ear; And every setting sun shall see New works of duty done for thee. Thy truth and justice I'll proclaim; Thy bounty flows an endless stream; Thy mercy swift, thine anger slow, But dreadful to the stubborn foe. Thy works with sovereign glory shine, And speak thy majesty divine; Let Britain round her shores proclaim The sound and honor of thy name. Let distant times and nations raise The long succession of thy praise, And unborn ages make my song The joy and labor of their tongue. But who can speak thy wondrous deeds? Thy greatness all our thoughts exceeds? Vast and unsearchable thy ways, Vast and immortal be thy praise!
Praise ye the Lord, my heart shall join In work so pleasant, so divine; Now, while the flesh is mine abode, And when my soul ascends to God. Praise shall employ my noblest powers, While immortality endures; My days of praise shall ne'er be past, While life, and thought, and being last. Why should I make a man my trust? Princes must die and turn to dust; Their breath departs, their pomp, and power, And thoughts, all vanish in an hour. Happy the man whose hopes rely On Isr'el's God; he made the sky, And earth, and seas, with all their train, And none shall find his promise vain. His truth for ever stands secure; He saves th' oppressed, he feeds the poor; He sends the lab'ring conscience peace, And grants the pris'ner sweet release. The Lord hath eyes to give the blind; The Lord supports the sinking mind; He helps the stranger in distress, The widow and the fatherless. He loves his saints, he knows them well, But turns the wicked down to hell: Thy God, O Zion! ever reigns; Praise him in everlasting strains.
Praise ye the Lord; 'tis good to raise Our hearts and voices in his praise; His nature and his works invite To make this duty our delight. The Lord builds up Jerusalem, And gathers nations to his name; His mercy melts the stubborn soul, And makes the broken spirit whole. He formed the stars, those heav'nly flames; He counts their numbers, calls their names; His wisdom's vast, and knows no bound, A deep where all our thoughts are drowned. Great is our Lord, and great his might; And all his glories infinite: He crowns the meek, rewards the just, And treads the wicked to the dust. PAUSE. Sing to the Lord, exalt him high, Who spreads his clouds all round the sky; There he prepares the fruitful rain, Nor lets the drops descend in vain. He makes the grass the hills adorn, And clothes the smiling fields with corn; The beasts with food his hands supply, And the young ravens when they cry. What is the creature's skill or force, The sprightly man, the warlike horse, The nimble wit, the active limb? All are too mean delights for him. But saints are lovely in his sight, He views his children with delight; He sees their hope, he knows their fear, And looks, and loves his image there.
O Britain, praise thy mighty God, And make his honors known abroad, He bid the ocean round thee flow; Not bars of brass could guard thee so. Thy children are secure and blest; Thy shores have peace, thy cities rest; He feeds thy sons with finest wheat, And adds his blessing to their meat. Thy changing seasons he ordains, Thine early and thy latter rains; His flakes of snow like wool he sends, And thus the springing corn defends. With hoary frost he strews the ground; His hail descends with clatt'ring sound: Where is the man so vainly bold That dares defy his dreadful cold? He bids the southern breezes blow; The ice dissolves, the waters flow: But he hath nobler works and ways To call the Britons to his praise. To all the isle his laws are shown, His gospel through the nation known; He hath not thus revealed his word To every land: praise ye the Lord.
Loud hallelujahs to the Lord, From distant worlds where creatures dwell; Let heav'n begin the solemn word, And sound it dreadful down to hell. The Lord, how absolute he reigns! Let every angel bend the knee; Sing of his love in heav'nly strains, And speak how fierce his terrors be. High on a throne his glories dwell, An awful throne of shining bliss; Fly through the world, O sun! and tell How dark thy beams compared to his. Awake, ye tempests, and his fame In sounds of dreadful praise declare; And the sweet whisper of his name Fill every gentler breeze of air. Let clouds, and winds, and waves agree To join their praise with blazing fire; Let the firm earth and rolling sea In this eternal song conspire. Ye flowery plains, proclaim his skill; Valleys, lie low before his eye; And let his praise from every hill Rise tuneful to the neighb'ring sky. Ye stubborn oaks, and stately pines, Bend your high branches and adore: Praise him, ye beasts, in diff'rent strains; The lamb must bleat, the lion roar. Birds, ye must make his praise your theme; Nature demands a song from you; While the dumb fish that cut the stream Leap up, and mean his praises too. Mortals, can you refrain your tongue, When nature all around you sings? O for a shout from old and young, From humble swains and lofty kings! Wide as his vast dominion lies Make the Creator's name be known; Loud as his thunder shout his praise, And sound it lofty as his throne. Jehovah! 'tis a glorious word: O may it dwell on every tongue! But saints, who best have known the Lord, Are bound to raise the noblest song. Speak of the wonders of that love Which Gabriel plays on every chord: From all below, and all above, Loud hallelujahs to the Lord!
Lyrics: Isaac Watts
Music: Thomas Bishop Southgate (Tune: BROOKFIELD)
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Key: G)
Music: Musikalisches Handbuch, Hamburg, 1690 (Tune: CRASSELIUS)
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Key: Bb)
Music: John L. Hatton (Tune: DUKE STREET)
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Music: Henry Kemble Oliver (Tune: FEDERAL STREET)
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STREET, Key: Eb)
Music: Composer Unknown (arr. Lowell
Mason) (Tune: HAMBURG)
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Music: Henry Williams Baker (Tune: HESPERUS)
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Music: Composer Unknown (arr. John Bacchus Dykes) (Tune: INTERCESSION)
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Music: Henry Percy Smith (Tune: MARYTON)
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Music: Genevan Psalter, 1551 (Tune: OLD HUNDREDTH)
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Music: Henry Williams Baker (Tune: QUEBEC)
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Music: John Bacchus Dykes (Tune: RIVAULX)
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Music: Thomas Tallis (Tune: TALLIS' CANNON)
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Music: Musikalisches Handbuch, Hamburg, 1690 (Tune: WINCHESTER NEW)
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WINCHESTER NEW, Key: Bb)
Music: William Batchelder
Bradbury (Tune: ZEPHYR)
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