Christ's Triumph after Death (excerpts)
I
But now the second Morning, from her bow'r,
Began to glister in her beams, and now
The roses of the day began to flow'r
In th' eastern garden; for Heav'ns smiling brow
Half insolent for joy begun to show:
The early Sun came lively dancing out,
And the brag lambs ran wantoning about,
That heav'n, and earth might seem in triumph both to shout.
II
Th' engladded Spring, forgetfull now to weep,
Began t' eblazon from her leafy bed,
The waking swallow broke her half-year's sleep,
And every bush lay deeply purpured
With violets, the wood's late-wintry head
Wide flaming primroses set all on fire,
And his bald trees put on their green attire,
Among whose infant leaves the joyous birds conspire.
III
And now the taller Sons (whom Titan warms)
Of unshorn mountains, blown with easy winds,
Dandled the morning's childhood in their arms,
And, if they chanc'd to slip the prouder pines,
The under Corylets did catch the shines,
To gild their leaves; saw never happy year
Such joyfull triumph, and triumphant cheer,
As though the aged world anew created were.
IV
Say Earth, why hast thou got thee new attire,
And stick'st thy habit full of daisies red?
Seems that thou dost to some high thought aspire,
And some new-found-out bridegroom mean'st to wed:
Tell me ye Trees, so fresh apparelled,
So never let the spitefull canker waste you,
So never let the heav'ns with lightening blast you,
Why go you now so trimly drest, or whither haste you?
V
Answer me Jordan, why thy crooked tide
So often wanders from his nearest way,
As though some other way thy stream would slide,
And fain salute the place where something lay?
And you sweet birds, that shaded from the ray,
Sit carolling, and piping grief away,
The while the lambs to hear you dance, and play,
Tell me sweet birds, what is it you so fain would say?
VI
And, thou fair Spouse of Earth, that every year,
Gett'st such a numerous issue of thy bride,
How chance thou hotter shin'st, and draw'st more near?
Sure thou somewhere some worthy sight hast spied,
That in one place for joy thou canst not bide:
And you dead swallows, that so lively now
Through the flit air your winged passage row,
How could new life into your frozen ashes flow?
VII
Ye primroses, and purple violets,
Tell me, why blaze ye from your leafy bed,
And woo men's hands to rent you from your sets,
As though you would somewhere be carried,
With fresh perfumes, and velvets garnished?
But ah, I need not ask, 'tis surely so,
You all would to your Saviour's triumphs go,
There would ye all await, and humble homage do.
VIII
There should the Earth herself with garlands new
And lovely flow'rs embellished adore,
Such roses never in her garland grew,
Such lilies never in her breast she wore,
Like beauty never yet did shine before:
There should the Sun another Sun behold,
From whence himself borrows his locks of gold,
That kindle heav'n, and earth with beauties manifold.
IX
There might the violet, and primrose sweet
Beams of more lively, and more lovely grace,
Arising from their beds of incense meet;
There should the swallow see new life embrace
Dead ashes, and the grave unheal his face,
To let the living from his bowels creep,
Unable longer his own dead to keep:
There heav'n and earth should see their Lord awake from sleep.
X
Their Lord, before by other judg'd to die,
Now Judge of all himself; before forsaken
Of all the world, that from his aid did fly,
Now by the Saints into their armies taken;
Before for an unworthy man mistaken,
Now worthy to be God confess'd; before
With blasphemies by all the basest tore,
Now worshipped by Angels, that him low adore.
XI
Whose garment was before indipt in blood,
But now, imbrighten'd into heav'nly flame,
The Sun itself outglitters, though he should
Climb to the top of the celestial frame,
And force the stars go hide themselves for shame:
Before that under earth was buried,
But now about the heavens is carried,
And there for ever by the Angels heried.
XII
So fairest Phosphor the bright morning star,
But newly wash'd in the green element,
Before the drowsy Night is half aware,
Shooting his flaming locks with dew besprent,
Springs lively up into the orient,
And the bright drove, fleec'd all in gold, he chases
To drink, that on the Olympic mountain grazes,
The while the minor Planets forfeit all their faces.
XIII
So long he wander'd in our lower sphere,
That heav'n began his cloudy stars despise,
Half envious, to see on earth appear
A greater light, than flam'd in his own skies:
At length it burst for spite, and out there flies
A globe of winged angels, swift as thought,
That on their spotted feathers lively caught
The sparkling earth, and to their azure fields it brought.
XIV
The rest, that yet amazed stood below,
With eyes cast up, as greedy to be fed,
And hands upheld, themselves to ground did throw,
So when the Trojan boy was ravished,
As through th' Idalian woods they say he fled,
His aged guardians stood all dismay'd,
Some lest he should have fallen back afraid,
And some their hasty vows, and timely prayers said.
XV
Toss up your heads ye everlasting gates,
And let the Prince of Glory enter in:
At whose brave volley of siderial states,
The sun to blush, and stars grow pale were seen,
When, leaping first from earth, he did begin
To climb his angels' wings; then open hang
Your chrystal doors, so all the chorus sang
Of heav'nly birds, as to the stars they nimbly sprang.
XVI
Hark how the floods clap their applauding hands,
The pleasant valleys singing for delight,
And wanton mountains dance about the lands,
The while the fields, struck with the heav'nly light,
Set all their flow'rs a smiling at the sight,
The trees laugh with their blossoms, and the sound
Of the triumphant shout of praise, that crown'd
The flaming Lamb, breaking through heav'n, hath passage found.
XVII
Out leap the antique Patriarchs, all in haste,
To see the pow'rs of Hell in triumph led,
And with small stars a garland interchas'd
Of olive leaves they bore, to crown his head,
That was before with thorns degloried,
After them flew the Prophets, brightly stol'd
In shining lawn, and wimpled manifold,
Striking their ivory harps, strung all in chords of gold.
XVIII
To which the Saints victorious carols sung,
Ten thousand Saints at once, that with the sound,
The hollow vaults of heav'n for triumph rung:
The Cherubins their clamours did confound
With all the rest, and clapp'd their wings around:
Down from their thrones the Dominations flow,
And at his feet their crowns, and sceptres throw,
And all the princely Souls fell on their faces low.
XIX
Nor can the Martyrs wounds' them stay behind,
But out they rush among the heav'nly crowd,
Seeking their heav'n out of their heav'n to find,
Sounding their silver trumpets out so loud,
That the shrill noise broke through the starry cloud,
And all the virgin Souls, in pure array,
Came dancing forth, and making joyous play;
So him they lead along into the courts of day.
XX
So him they lead into the courts of day,
Where never war, nor wounds abide him more,
But in that house, eternal peace doth play,
Acquieting the souls, that new before
Their way to heav'n through their own blood did score,
But now, estranged from all misery,
As far as heav'n and earth discoasted lie,
Swelter in quiet waves of immortality.
...
poem by Giles Fletcher The Younger
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Psalm 8
God's sovereignty and goodness.
O Lord, our heav'nly King,
Thy name is all divine;
Thy glories round the earth are spread,
And o'er the heav'ns they shine.
When to thy works on high
I raise my wondering eyes,
And see the moon, complete in light,
Adorn the darksome skies
When I survey the stars,
And all their shining forms,
Lord, what is man, that worthless thing,
Akin to dust and worms?
Lord, what is worthless man,
That thou shouldst love him so?
Next to thine angels is he placed,
And lord of all below.
Thine honors crown his head,
While beasts, like slaves, obey;
And birds that cut the air with wings,
And fish that cleave the sea.
How rich thy bounties are!
And wondrous are thy ways
Of dust and worms thy power can frame
A monument of praise.
[Out of the mouths of babes
And sucklings thou canst draw
Surprising honors to thy name,
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O Lord, our heav'nly King,
Thy name is all divine;
Thy glories round the earth are spread,
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poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 57
Praise for protection, grace, and truth.
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.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 50 part 1
v.1-6
C. M.
The last judgment
The Lord, the Judge, before his throne
Bids the whole earth draw nigh,
The nations near the rising sun,
And near the western sky.
No more shall bold blasphemers say,
"Judgment will ne'er begin;"
No more abuse his long delay
To impudence and sin.
Throned on a cloud our God shall come,
Bright flames prepare his way;
Thunder and darkness, fire and storm,
Lead on the dreadful day.
Heav'n from above his call shall hear,
Attending angels come,
And earth and hell shall know and fear
His justice and their doom.
"But gather all my saints," he cries,
"That made their peace with God
By the Redeemer's sacrifice,
And sealed it with his blood.
"Their faith and works, brought forth to light
Shall make the world confess,
My sentence of reward is right,
And heav'n adore my grace."
poem by Isaac Watts
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Sonnet XXXII: Like as the Spotless Ermelin
To M. P.
Like as the spotless Ermelin distress'd,
Circumpass'd round with filth and loathsome mud,
Pines in her grief, imprison'd in her nest,
And cannot issue forth to seek her good,
So I environ'd with a hateful want
Look to the heav'ns, the heav'ns yield forth no grace;
I search the earth, the earth I find as scant;
I view my self, my self in woeful case.
Heav'n nor earth will not, my self cannot work
A way through want to free my soul from care;
But I must pine, and in my pining lurk,
Lest my sad looks bewray me how I fare.
My fortune mantled with a cloud s'obscure
Thus shades my life so long as wants endure.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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Hymn 58
The devil vanquished; or, Michael's war with the dragon.
Rev. 12:7.
Let mortal tongues attempt to sing
The wars of heav'n, when Michael stood
Chief general of th' Eternal King,
And fought the battles of our God.
Against the dragon and his host
The armies of the Lord prevail:
In vain they rage, in vain they boast,
Their courage sinks, their weapons fail.
Down to the earth was Satan thrown,
Down to the earth his legions fell;
Then was the trump of triumph blown,
And shook the dreadful deeps of hell.
Now is the hour of darkness past,
Christ has assum'd his reigning power;
Behold the great accuser cast
Down from the skies to rise no more.
'Twas by thy blood, immortal Lamb,
Thine armies trod the tempter down;
'Twas by thy word and powerful name
They gain'd the battle and renown.
Rejoice, ye heav'ns; let every star
Shine with new glories round the sky;
Saints, while ye sing the heav'nly war,
Raise your Deliv'rer's name on high.
poem by Isaac Watts
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None Other Lamb
None other Lamb, none other Name,
None other hope in Heav’n or earth or sea,
None other hiding place from guilt and shame,
None beside Thee!
My faith burns low, my hope burns low;
Only my heart’s desire cries out in me
By the deep thunder of its want and woe,
Cries out to Thee.
Lord, Thou art Life, though I be dead;
Love’s fire Thou art, however cold I be:
Nor Heav’n have I, nor place to lay my head,
Nor home, but Thee.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The H. Communion
Not in rich furniture, or fine array,
Nor in a wedge of gold,
Thou, who from me wast sold,
To me dost now thy self convey;
For so thou should'st without me still have been,
Leaving within me sin:
But by the way of nourishment and strength
Thou creep'st into my breast;
Making thy way my rest,
And thy small quantities my length;
Which spread their forces into every part,
Meeting sin's force and art.
Yet can these not get over to my soul,
Leaping the wall that parts
Our souls, and fleshly hearts;
But as th'outworks, they may control
My rebel-flesh, and carrying thy name,
Affright both sin and shame.
Only thy grace, which with these elements comes,
Knoweth the ready way,
And hath the privy key,
Op'ning the soul's most subtle rooms;
While those to spirits refin'd, at door attend
Dispatches from their friend.
Give me my captive soul, or take
My body also thither,
Another lift like this will make
Them both to be together.
Before that sin turn'd flesh into stone,
And all our lump to leaven,
A fervent sigh might well have blown
Our innocent earth to heaven.
For sure when Adam did not know
To sin, or sin to smother;
He might to heav'n from Paradise go,
As from one room t'another.
Thou hast restor'd to us this ease
By this thy heav'nly blood;
Which I can go to, when I please,
And leave th'earth to their food.
poem by George Herbert
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Hymn 95
Regeneration.
John 1:13; 3:3, etc.
Not all the outward forms on earth,
Nor rites that God has giv'n,
Nor will of man, nor blood, nor birth,
Can raise a soul to heav'n.
The sovereign will of God alone
Creates us heirs of grace
Born in the image of his Son,
A new, peculiar race.
The Spirit, like some heav'nly wind,
Blows on the sons of flesh,
New-models all the carnal mind,
And forms the man afresh.
Our quickened souls awake, and rise
From the long sleep of death;
On heav'nly things we fix our eyes,
And praise employs our breath.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Songs of Praise the Angels Sang
Songs of praise the angels sang,
Heav’n with alleluias rang,
When creation was begun,
When God spoke and it was done.
Songs of praise awoke the morn
When the Prince of Peace was born;
Songs of praise arose when He
Captive led Captivity.
Heav’n and earth must pass away!
Songs of praise shall crown that day!
God will make new heav’ns and earth;
Songs of praise shall hail their birth.
And can man alone be dumb,
Till that glorious kingdom come?
No: the church delights to raise
Psalms, and hymns, and songs of praise.
Saints below, with heart and voice,
Still in songs of praise rejoice,
Learning here, by faith and love,
Songs of praise to sing above.
Borne upon their latest breath,
Songs of praise shall conquer death;
Then amidst eternal joy,
Songs of praise their powers employ.
Hymns of glory, songs of praise,
Father, unto Thee we raise;
Jesus, glory unto Thee,
With the Spirit, ever be.
poem by James Montgomery
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Hymn 3
The nativity of Christ.
Luke 1:30ff; 2:10ff
Behold, the grace appears!
The promise is fulfilled;
Mary, the wondrous virgin, bears,
And Jesus is the child.
[The Lord, the highest God,
Calls him his only Son;
He bids him rule the lands abroad,
And gives him David's throne.
O'er Jacob shall he reign
With a peculiar sway;
The nations shall his grace obtain,
His kingdom ne'er decay.]
To bring the glorious news
A heav'nly form appears;
He tells the shepherds of their joys,
And banishes their fears.
"Go, humble swains," said he,
"To David's city fly;
The promised infant born to-day
Doth in a manger lie."
"With looks and hearts serene,
Go visit Christ your King;
And straight a flaming troop was seen:
The shepherds heard them sing:
"Glory to God on high!
And heav'nly peace on earth;
Goodwill to men, to angels joy,
At the Redeemer's birth!
[In worship so divine,
Let saints employ their tongues;
With the celestial hosts we join,
And loud repeat their songs:
"Glory to God on high!
And heav'nly peace on earth;
Goodwill to men, to angels joy,
At our Redeemer's birth!"]
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 16 Part 2
The enjoyment of Christ; or, Delight in ordinances.
Lord, what a heav'n of saving grace
Shines through the beauties of thy face,
And lights our passions to a flame!
Lord, how we love thy charming name!
When I can say, "My God is mine,"
When I can feel thy glories shine,
I tread the world beneath my feet,
And all that earth calls good or great.
While such a scene of sacred joys
Our raptured eyes and souls employs,
Here we could sit, and gaze away
A long, an everlasting day.
Well, we shall quickly pass the night
To the fair coasts of perfect light;
Then shall our joyful senses rove
O'er the dear object of our love.
[There shall we drink full draughts of bliss,
And pluck new life from heav'nly trees:
Yet now and then, dear Lord, bestow
A drop of heav'n on worms below.
Send comforts down from thy right hand,
While we pass through this barren land,
And in thy temple let us see
A glimpse of love, a glimpse of thee.]
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 146
Characters of Christ; borrowed from inanimate things in Scripture.
Go, worship at Immanuel's feet,
See in his face what wonders meet!
Earth is too narrow to express
His worth, his glory, or his grace.
[The whole creation can afford
But some faint shadows of my Lord;
Nature, to make his beauties known,
Must mingle colors not her own.]
[Is he compared to wine or bread?
Dear Lord, our souls would thus be fed
That flesh, that dying blood of thine,
Is bread of life, is heav'nly wine.]
[Is he a tree? The world receives
Salvation from his healing leaves;
That righteous branch, that fruitful bough,
Is David's root and offspring too.]
[Is he a rose? Not Sharon yields
Such fragrancy in all her fields:
Or if the lily he assume,
The valleys bless the rich perfume.]
[Is he a vine? His heav'nly root
Supplies the boughs with life and fruit
O let a lasting union join
My soul the branch to Christ the vine!]
[Is he the head? Each member lives,
And owns the vital powers he gives;
The saints below and saints above
Joined by his Spirit and his love.]
[Is he a fountain? There I bathe,
And heal the plague of sin and death
These waters all my soul renew,
And cleanse my spotted garments too.]
[Is he a fire? He'll purge my dross;
But the true gold sustains no loss:
Like a refiner shall he sit,
And tread the refuse with his feet.]
[Is he a rock? How firm he proves!
The Rock of ages never moves;
Yet the sweet streams that from him flow
Attend us all the desert through.]
[Is he a way? He leads to God,
The path is drawn in lines of blood;
There would I walk with hope and zeal,
Till I arrive at Zion's hill.]
[Is he a door? I'll enter in
Behold the pastures large and green,
A paradise divinely fair;
None but the sheep have freedom there.]
[Is he designed the corner-stone,
For men to build their heav'n upon?
I'll make him my foundation too,
Nor fear the plots of hell below.]
[Is he a temple? I adore
Th' indwelling majesty and power
And still to this most holy place,
Whene'er I pray, I turn my face.]
[Is he a star? He breaks the night
Piercing the shades with dawning light;
I know his glories from afar,
I know the bright, the morning star.]
[Is he a sun? His beams are grace,
His course is joy and righteousness;
Nations rejoice when he appears
To chase their clouds and dry their tears.
O let me climb those higher skies,
Where storms and darkness never rise!
There he displays his power abroad,
And shines and reigns th' incarnate God.]
Nor earth, nor seas, nor sun, nor stars,
Nor heav'n, his full resemblance bears;
His beauties we can never trace,
Till we behold him face to face.
poem by Isaac Watts
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In the Holy Nativity of our Lord
CHORUS
Come we shepherds whose blest sight
Hath met love's noon in nature's night;
Come lift we up our loftier song
And wake the sun that lies too long.
To all our world of well-stol'n joy
He slept, and dreamt of no such thing,
While we found out heav'n's fairer eye,
And kiss'd the cradle of our King.
Tell him he rises now too late
To show us aught worth looking at.
Tell him we now can show him more
Than he e'er show'd to mortal sight,
Than he himself e'er saw before,
Which to be seen needs not his light.
Tell him, Tityrus, where th' hast been;
Tell him, Thyrsis, what th' hast seen.
TITYRUS
Gloomy night embrac'd the place
Where the Noble Infant lay;
The Babe look'd up and show'd his face,
In spite of darkness, it was day.
It was thy day, Sweet! and did rise
Not from the east, but from thine eyes.
CHORUS
It was thy day, Sweet! and did rise
Not from the east, but from thine eyes.
THYRSIS
Winter chid aloud, and sent
The angry North to wage his wars;
The North forgot his fierce intent,
And left perfumes instead of scars.
By those sweet eyes' persuasive pow'rs,
Where he meant frost, he scatter'd flow'rs.
CHORUS
By those sweet eyes' persuasive pow'rs,
Where he meant frost, he scatter'd flow'rs.
BOTH
We saw thee in thy balmy nest,
Young dawn of our eternal day!
We saw thine eyes break from their east
And chase the trembling shades away.
We saw thee, and we bless'd the sight,
We saw thee by thine own sweet light.
TITYRUS
Poor World, said I, what wilt thou do
To entertain this starry stranger?
Is this the best thou canst bestow,
A cold, and not too cleanly, manger?
Contend, ye powers of heav'n and earth,
To fit a bed for this huge birth.
CHORUS
Contend, ye powers of heav'n and earth,
To fit a bed for this huge birth.
THYRSIS
Proud World, said I, cease your contest,
And let the Mighty Babe alone;
The ph{oe}nix builds the ph{oe}nix' nest,
Love's architecture is his own;
The Babe whose birth embraves this morn,
Made his own bed ere he was born.
CHORUS
The Babe whose birth embraves this morn,
Made his own bed ere he was born.
TITYRUS
I saw the curl'd drops, soft and slow,
Come hovering o'er the place's head,
Off'ring their whitest sheets of snow
To furnish the fair Infant's bed.
Forbear, said I, be not too bold;
Your fleece is white, but 'tis too cold.
CHORUS
Forbear, said I, be not too bold;
Your fleece is white, but 'tis too cold.
THYRSIS
I saw the obsequious Seraphims
Their rosy fleece of fire bestow;
For well they now can spare their wings,
Since Heav'n itself lies here below.
Well done, said I, but are you sure
Your down so warm will pass for pure?
CHORUS
Well done, said I, but are you sure
Your down so warm will pass for pure?
TITYRUS
No no, your King's not yet to seek
Where to repose his royal head;
See see, how soon his new-bloom'd cheek
'Twixt's mother's breasts is gone to bed.
Sweet choice, said we! no way but so,
Not to lie cold, yet sleep in snow.
CHORUS
Sweet choice, said we! no way but so,
Not to lie cold, yet sleep in snow.
BOTH
We saw thee in thy balmy nest,
Bright dawn of our eternal day!
We saw thine eyes break from their east,
And chase the trembling shades away.
We saw thee, and we bless'd the sight,
We saw thee, by thine own sweet light.
CHORUS
We saw thee, and we bless'd the sight,
We saw thee, by thine own sweet light.
FULL CHORUS
Welcome, all wonders in one sight!
Eternity shut in a span;
Summer in winter; day in night;
Heaven in earth, and God in man.
Great little one, whose all-embracing birth
Lifts earth to heaven, stoops heav'n to earth.
Welcome; though nor to gold nor silk,
To more than C{ae}sar's birthright is;
Two sister seas of virgin-milk,
With many a rarely temper'd kiss,
That breathes at once both maid and mother,
Warms in the one, cools in the other.
Welcome, though not to those gay flies
Gilded i' th' beams of earthly kings,
Slippery souls in smiling eyes;
But to poor shepherds, homespun things,
Whose wealth's their flock, whose wit, to be
Well read in their simplicity.
Yet when young April's husband-show'rs
Shall bless the fruitful Maia's bed,
We'll bring the first-born of her flow'rs
To kiss thy feet and crown thy head.
To thee, dread Lamb! whose love must keep
The shepherds more than they the sheep.
To thee, meek Majesty! soft King
Of simple graces and sweet loves,
Each of us his lamb will bring,
Each his pair of silver doves;
Till burnt at last in fire of thy fair eyes,
Ourselves become our own best sacrifice.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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May Song
How fair doth Nature
Appear again!
How bright the sunbeams!
How smiles the plain!
The flow'rs are bursting
From ev'ry bough,
And thousand voices
Each bush yields now.
And joy and gladness
Fill ev'ry breast!
Oh earth!--oh sunlight!
Oh rapture blest!
Oh love! oh loved one!
As golden bright,
As clouds of morning
On yonder height!
Thou blessest gladly
The smiling field,--
The world in fragrant
Vapour conceal'd.
Oh maiden, maiden,
How love I thee!
Thine eye, how gleams it!
How lov'st thou me!
The blithe lark loveth
Sweet song and air,
The morning flow'ret
Heav'n's incense fair,
As I now love thee
With fond desire,
For thou dost give me
Youth, joy, and fire,
For new-born dances
And minstrelsy.
Be ever happy,
As thou lov'st me!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Hymn 43 part 2
The Christian's treasure.
1 Cor. 3:21.
How vast the treasure we possess!
How rich thy bounty, King of grace!
This world is ours, and worlds to come;
Earth is our lodge, and heav'n our home.
All things are ours: the gifts of God;
The purchase of a Savior's blood;
While the good Spirit shows us how
To use, and to improve them too.
If peace and plenty crown my days,
They help me, Lord, to speak thy praise;
If bread of sorrows be my food,
Those sorrows work my lasting good.
I would not change my blest estate
For all the world calls good or great;
And while my faith can keep her hold,
I envy not the sinner's gold.
Father, I wait thy daily will;
Thou shalt divide my portion still;
Grant me on earth what seems thee best,
Till death and heav'n reveal the rest.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Sonnet XVII: Stay, Speedy Time
To Time
Stay, speedy Time, behold, before thou pass,
From age to age what thou hast sought to see,
One in whom all the excellencies be,
In whom Heav'n looks itself as in a glass.
Time, look thyself in this tralucent glass,
And thy youth past in this pure mirror see,
As the world's beauty in his infancy,
What is was then, and thou before it was.
Pass on, and to posterity tell this,
Yet see thou tell but truly what hath been;
Say to our nephews that thou once hast seen
In perfect human shape all heav'nly bliss,
And bid them mourn, nay more, despair with thee,
That she is gone, her like again to see.
poem by Michael Drayton
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Hymn 22 part 1
Christ the eternal life.
Rom. 9:5.
Jesus, our Savior and our God,
Arrayed in majesty and blood,
Thou art our life; our souls in thee
Possess a full felicity.
All our immortal hopes are laid
In thee, our surety and our head;
Thy cross, thy cradle, and thy throne,
Are big with glories yet unknown.
Let atheists scoff, and Jews blaspheme
Th' eternal life and Jesus' name;
A word of thy almighty breath
Dooms the rebellious world to death.
But let my soul for ever lie
Beneath the blessings of thine eye;
'Tis heav'n on earth, 'tis heav'n above,
To see thy face and taste thy love.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 136
God's wonders of creation, providence, redemption of Israel, and salvation of his people.
Give thanks to God the sovereign Lord;
His mercies still endure;
And be the King of kings adored;
His truth is ever sure.
What wonders hath his wisdom done!
How mighty is his hand!
Heav'n, earth, and sea, he framed alone;
How wide is his command
The sun supplies the day with light;
How bright his counsels shine!
The moon and stars adorn the night;
His works are all divine.
[He struck the sons of Egypt dead;
How dreadful is his rod!
And thence with joy his people led;
How gracious is our God!
He cleft the swelling sea in two;
His arm is great in might;
And gave the tribes a passage through;
His power and grace unite.
But Pharaoh's army there he drowned;
How glorious are his ways!
And brought his saints through desert ground;
Eternal be his praise!
Great monarchs fell beneath his hand;
Victorious is his sword;
While Isr'el took the promised land;
And faithful is his word.]
He saw the nations dead in sin;
He felt his pity move:
How sad the state the world was in!
How boundless was his love!
He sent to save us from our woe;
His goodness never fails;
From death, and hell, and every foe;
And still his grace prevails.
Give thanks to God the heav'nly King;
His mercies still endure:
Let the whole earth his praises sing;
His truth is ever sure.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 148
Proper Metre.
Praise to God from all creatures.
Ye tribes of Adam, join
With heav'n, and earth, and seas,
And offer notes divine
To your Creator's praise:
Ye holy throng
Of angels bright,
In worlds of light,
Begin the song.
Thou sun with dazzling rays,
And moon that rules the night,
Shine to your Maker's praise,
With stars of twinkling light:
His power declare,
Ye floods on high,
And clouds that fly
In empty air.
The shining worlds above
In glorious order stand,
Or in swift courses move,
By his supreme command:
He spake the word,
And all their frame
From nothing came,
To praise the Lord.
He moved their mighty wheels
In unknown ages past,
And each his word fulfils
While time and nature last:
In diff'rent ways
His works proclaim
His wondrous name,
And speak his praise.
PAUSE.
Let all the earth-born race,
And monsters of the deep
The fish that cleave the seas,
Or in their bosom sleep;
From sea and shore
Their tribute pay,
And still display
Their Maker's power.
Ye vapors, hail, and snow,
Praise ye th' almighty Lord,
And stormy winds that blow,
To execute his word:
When lightnings shine,
Or thunders roar,
Let earth adore
His hand divine.
Ye mountains near the skies,
With lofty cedars there,
And trees of humbler size,
That fruit in plenty bear;
Beasts wild and tame,
Birds, flies, and worms,
In various forms,
Exalt his name.
Ye kings and judges, fear
The Lord, the sovereign King;
And while you rule us here,
His heav'nly honors sing;
Nor let the dream
Of power and state
Make you forget
His power supreme.
Virgins and youths, engage
To sound his praise divine,
While infancy and age
Their feebler voices join:
Wide as he reigns
His name be sung
By every tongue
In endless strains.
Let all the nations fear
The God that rules above;
He brings his people near,
And makes them taste his love:
While earth and sky
Attempt his praise,
His saints shall raise
His honors high.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 85 part 2
v.9ff
L. M.
Salvation by Christ.
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.
poem by Isaac Watts
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