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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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,
And strike the world with awe.
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.]
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm XXXIII: Rejoice, Ye Righteous
Rejoice, ye righteous, in the Lord,
This work belongs to you;
Sing of his name, his ways, his word,
How holy, just, and true.
His mercy and his righteousness
Let heav'n and earth proclaim;
His works of nature and of grace
Reveal his wondrous name.
His wisdom and almighty word
The heav'nly arches spread,
And by the Spirit of the Lord
Their shining hosts were made.
He bid the liquid waters flow
To their appointed deep;
The flowing seas their limits know
And their own station keep.
Ye tenants of the spacious earth,
With fear before him stand;
He spake, and nature took its birth,
And rests on his command.
He scorns the angry nations' rage,
And breaks their vain designs;
His counsel stands through ev'ry age,
And in full glory shines.
Blessed is the nation where the Lord
Hath fixed his gracious throne,
Where he reveals his heav'nly word,
And calls their tribes his own.
His eye with infinite survey
Does the whole world behold;
He formed us all of equal clay,
And knows our feeble mould.
Kings are not rescued by the force
Of armies from the grave;
Nor speed nor courage of a horse
Can the bold rider save.
Vain is the strength of beasts or men,
To hope for safety thence;
But holy souls from God obtain
A strong and sure defense.
God is their fear, and God their trust;
When plagues or famine spread,
His watchful eye secures the just
Among ten thousand dead.
Lord, let our hearts in thee rejoice,
And bless us from thy throne;
For we have made thy word our choice,
And trust thy grace alone.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 27
Assurance of heaven.
2 Tim. 4:68,18.
[Death may dissolve my body now,
And bear my spirit home;
Why do my minutes move so slow,
Nor my salvation come?
With heav'nly weapons I have fought
The battles of the Lord;
Finished my course, and kept the faith,
And wait the sure reward.]
God has laid up in heav'n for me
A crown which cannot fade;
The righteous Judge at that great day
Shall place it on my head.
Nor hath the King of grace decreed
This prize for me alone;
But all that love and long to see
Th' appearance of his Son.
Jesus the Lord shall guard me safe
From every ill design;
And to his heav'nly kingdom keep
This feeble soul of mine.
God is my everlasting aid,
And hell shall rage in vain;
To him be highest glory paid
And endless praise--Amen.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 89 part 2
v.7ff
C. M.
The power and majesty of God; or, Reverential worship.
With rev'rence let the saints appear,
And bow before the Lord;
His high commands with rev'rence hear,
And tremble at his word.
How terrible thy glories be!
How bright thine armies shine!
Where is the power that vies with thee,
Or truth compared to thine?
The northern pole and southern rest
On thy supporting hand;
Darkness and day, from east to west,
Move round at thy command.
Thy words the raging winds control,
And rule the boist'rous deep;
Thou mak'st the sleeping billows roll,
The rolling billows sleep.
Heav'n, earth, and air, and sea, are thine,
And the dark world of hell;
How did thine arm in vengeance shine
When Egypt durst rebel!
Justice and judgment are thy throne,
Yet wondrous is thy grace;
While truth and mercy, joined in one,
Invite us near thy face.
poem by Isaac Watts
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A Desire To Praise
Propitious Son of God to thee
With all my soul I bend my knee,
My wish I send my want impart,
And dedicate my mind and heart,
For as an absent parent's son
Whose second year is only run,
When no protecting friend is near,
Void of wit and void of fear,
With things that hurt him fondly plays,
Or here he falls, or there he strays;
So shou'd my soul's eternal guide
The sacred spirit be deny'd,
Thy servant soon the loss wou'd know,
And sink in sin, or run to woe.
O spirit bountifully kind,
Warm, possess, and fill my mind,
Disperse my sins with light divine
And raise the flames of love with thine,
Before thy pleasures rightly priz'd
Let wealth and honour be despis'd,
And let the Father's glory be
More dear itself than life to me.
Sing of Jesus! virgins sing
Him your everlasting King;
Sing of Jesus! chearful youth,
Him the God of love and truth:
Write and raise a song divine
Or come and hear, and borrow mine.
Son Eternal, word supreme,
Who made the universal frame,
Heav'n and all its shining show,
Earth and all it holds below;
Bow with mercy bow thine ear
While we sing thy praises here;
Son Eternal ever bless'd,
Resting on the Father's breast,
Whose tender love for all provides,
Whose power over all presides;
Bow with pity, bow thine ear
While we sing thy praises, hear.
Thou, by pity's soft extream,
Mov'd, and won, and set on flame,
Assum'd the form of man, and fell
In pains, to rescue man from hell;
How bright thine humble glories rise
And match the lustre of the skies,
From death and hell's dejected state
Arising, thou resum'd thy seat,
And golden thrones of bliss prepar'd
Above, to be thy saints reward.
How bright thy glorious honours rise,
And with new lustre grace the skies.
For thee, the sweet seraphick Choir
Raise the voice and tune the Lyre,
And praises with harmonious sounds
Through all the highest heav'n rebounds.
O make our notes with theirs agree
And bless the souls that sing of thee:
To thee, the churches here rejoice,
The solemn organs aid the voice:
To sacred roofs the sound we raise,
The sacred roofs resound thy praise:
And while our notes in one agree,
O! bless the church that sings to thee.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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Hymn 37
Christ's intercession.
Lift up your eyes to th' heav'nly seats
Where your Redeemer stays;
Kind Intercessor, there he sits,
And loves, and pleads, and prays.
'Twas well, my soul, he died for thee,
And shed his vital blood;
Appeased stern justice on the tree,
And then arose to God.
Petitions now, and praise may rise,
And saints their off'rings bring;
The Priest, with his own sacrifice,
Presents them to the King.
[Let papists trust what names they please,
Their saints and angels boast;
We've no such advocates as these,
Nor pray to th' heav'nly host.]
Jesus alone shall bear my cries
Up to his Father's throne;
He, dearest Lord! perfumes my sighs,
And sweetens every groan.
[Ten thousand praises to the King,
"Hosannah in the highest!"
Ten thousand thanks our spirits bring
To God and to his Christ.]
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 118 part 4
v.24-26
C. M.
Hosanna; the Lord's day; or, Christ's resurrection and our salvation.
This is the day the Lord hath made,
He calls the hours his own;
Let heav'n rejoice, let earth be glad,
And praise surround the throne.
Today he rose and left the dead,
And Satan's empire fell;
Today the saints his triumphs spread,
And all his wonders tell.
Hosanna to th' anointed King,
To David's holy Son;
Help us, O Lord; descend and bring
Salvation from thy throne.
Blest be the Lord, who comes to men
With messages of grace;
Who comes in God his Father's name
To save our sinful race.
Hosanna in the highest strains
The church on earth can raise;
The highest heav'ns, in which he reigns,
Shall give him nobler praise.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 63 part 2
v.6-10
C. M.
Midnight thoughts recollected.
'Twas in the watches of the night
I thought upon thy power,
I kept thy lovely face in sight
Amidst the darkest hour.
My flesh lay resting on my bed,
My soul arose on high:
"My God, my life, my hope," I said,
"Bring thy salvation nigh."
My spirit labors up thine hill,
And climbs the heav'nly road;
But thy right hand upholds me still,
While I pursue my God.
Thy mercy stretches o'er my head
The shadow of thy wings;
My heart rejoices in thine aid,
My tongue awakes and sings.
But the destroyers of my peace
Shall fret and rage in vain;
The tempter shall for ever cease,
And all my sins be slain.
Thy sword shall give my foes to death,
And send them down to dwell
In the dark caverns of the earth,
Or to the deeps of hell.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 97 part 2
v.6-9
L. M.
Christ's incarnation.
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.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 135 part 2
v.5-12
L. M.
The works of creation, providence, redemption of Israel, and destruction of enemies.
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.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 150
The offices of Christ. From several scriptures.
Join all the glorious names
Of wisdom, love, and power,
That ever mortals knew,
That angels ever bore:
All are too mean to speak his worth,
Too mean to set my Savior forth.
But O what gentle terms,
What condescending ways,
Doth our Redeemer use
To teach his heav'nly grace!
Mine eyes with joy and wonder see
What forms of love he bears for me.
[Arrayed in mortal flesh,
He like an angel stands,
And holds the promises
And pardons in his hands;
Commissioned from his Father's throne
To make his grace to mortals known.]
[Great Prophet of my God,
My tongue would bless thy name;
By thee the joyful news
Of our salvation came:
The joyful news of sins forgiv'n,
Of hell subdued, and peace with heav'n.]
[Be thou my Counsellor,
My Pattern, and my Guide;
And through this desert land
Still keep me near thy side:
O let my feet ne'er run astray,
Nor rove, nor seek the crooked way.]
[I love my Shepherd's voice,
His watchful eyes shall keep
My wand'ring soul among
The thousands of his sheep:
He feeds his flock, he calls their names,
His bosom bears the tender lambs.]
[To this dear Surety's hand
Will I commit my cause;
He answers and fulfils
His Father's broken laws:
Behold my soul at freedom set!
My Surety paid the dreadful debt.]
[Jesus, my great High Priest,
Offered his blood, and died;
My guilty conscience seeks
No sacrifice beside:
His powerful blood did once atone,
And now it pleads before the throne.]
[My Advocate appears
For my defence on high;
The Father bows his ears,
And lays his thunder by:
Not all that hell or sin can say
Shall turn his heart, his love away.]
[My dear Almighty Lord,
My Conqueror and my King!
Thy sceptre and thy sword,
Thy reigning grace I sing:
Thine is the power; behold, I sit
In willing bonds before thy feet.]
[Now let my soul arise,
And tread the tempter down;
My Captain leads me forth
To conquest and a crown:
A feeble saint shall win the day,
Though death and hell obstruct the way.]
Should all the hosts of death,
And powers of hell unknown,
Put their most dreadful forms
Of rage and mischief on,
I shall be safe, for Christ displays
Superior power, and guardian grace.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Davideis: A Sacred Poem Of The Troubles Of David (excerpt)
BOOK I (excerpt)
I sing the man who Judah's sceptre bore
In that right hand which held the crook before;
Who from best poet, best of kings did grow;
The two chief gifts Heav'n could on man bestow.
Much danger first, much toil did he sustain,
Whilst Saul and Hell cross'd his strong fate in vain.
Nor did his crown less painful work afford;
Less exercise his patience, or his sword;
So long her conqueror fortunes spite pursued;
Till with unwearied virtue he subdued
All homebred malice, and all foreign boasts;
Their strength was armies, his the Lord of Hosts.
Thou, who didst David's royal stem adorn,
And gav'st him birth from whom thy self wast born;
Who didst in triumph at death's court appear,
And slew'st him with thy nails, thy cross and spear,
Whilst Hell's black tyrant trembled to behold,
The glorious light he forfeited of old;
Who Heav'ns glad burden now, and justest pride,
Sit'st high enthron'd next thy great Father's side,
(Where hallowed flames help to adorn that head
Which once the blushing thorns environed,
Till crimson drops of precious blood hung down
Like rubies to enrich thine humble crown.)
Even thou my breast with such blest rage inspire,
As mov'd the tuneful strings of David's lyre,
Guide my bold steps with thine old travelling flame,
In these untrodden paths to sacred fame;
Lo, with pure hands thy heav'enly fires to take,
My well-chang'd Muse I a chaste vestal make!
From earth's vain joys, and love's soft witchcraft free,
I consecrate my Magdalene to thee!
Lo, this great work, a temple to thy praise,
On polish'd pillars of strong verse I raise!
A temple, where if thou vouchsafe to dwell,
It Solomon's, and Herod's shall excel.
Too long the Muses-land have heathen bin;
Their gods too long were devils, and virtues sin;
But thou, Eternal Word, has call'd forth me
Th' apostle, to convert that world to thee;
T' unbind the charms that in slight fables lie,
And teach that truth is purest poesy.
...
poem by Abraham Cowley
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Hymn 137
Salvation by grace in Christ.
2 Tim. 1:9,10.
Now to the power of God supreme
Be everlasting honors giv'n;
He saves from hell, (we bless his name,)
He calls our wand'ring feet to heav'n.
Not for our duties or deserts,
But of his own abounding grace,
He works salvation in our hearts,
And forms a people for his praise.
'Twas his own purpose that begun
To rescue rebels doomed to die;
He gave us grace in Christ his Son
Before he spread the starry sky.
Jesus the Lord appears at last,
And makes his Father's counsels known;
Declares the great transactions past,
And brings immortal blessings down.
He dies, and in that dreadful night
Did all the powers of hell destroy;
Rising, he brought our heav'n to light,
And took possession of the joy.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 135
Praise due to God, not to idols.
Awake, ye saints; to praise your King,
Your sweetest passions raise,
Your pious pleasure, while you sing,
Increasing with the praise.
Great is the Lord, and works unknown
Are his divine employ;
But still his saints are near his throne,
His treasure and his joy.
Heav'n, earth, and sea confess his hand;
He bids the vapors rise;
Lightning and storm at his command
Sweep through the sounding skies.
All power that gods or kings have claimed
Is found with him alone
But heathen gods should ne'er be named
Where our Jehovah's known.
Which of the stocks or stones they trust
Can give them showers of rain?
In vain they worship glitt'ring dust,
And pray to gold in vain.
[Their gods have tongues that cannot talk,
Such as their makers gave;
Their feet were ne'er designed to walk,
Nor hands have power to save.
Blind are their eyes, their ears are deaf,
Nor hear when mortals pray;
Mortals that wait for their relief
Are blind and deaf as they.]
O Britain, know thy living God,
Serve him with faith and fear;
He makes thy churches his abode,
And claims thine honors there.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Heaven And Hell
Imagine no Heaven and no Hell, these are words on which to dwell,
Written by a spiritually empty pen, this, to deceive a world of men.
Told to think about just today, ignoring what God’s Word does say,
Suggesting nothing about eternity, but only what their eyes can see.
But, there is a Heaven up above, a place in Eternity, filled with love,
The dwelling place of Eternal God, reigning above the earth we trod.
And there really is a Hell beneath, full of wailing and gnashing teeth.
The Hell Christ described my friend, is a lake of fire that has no end.
This man’s imagination will not last, when his life upon earth is past,
And indeed all men will face reality, when they pass on into eternity.
Heaven and Hell were spoke of, by Jesus Christ, who reigns above.
Hell was created by God for sin, that in mortal bodies reigns within,
Created for Satan and his crew, not initially intended for me or you,
A place in Heaven is prepared for us, who in Christ place their trust,
But, one thing that cannot enter in, the Glories of Heaven is our sin.
So Christ came as our sacrifice, to cleanse believers, for Paradise.
Up in Heaven not down in Hell, is where believers one day will dwell,
And not through vain imagination, but through God’s great Salvation.
Hell eternally is prepared for, Satan and all men who reject The Lord,
Far from a mindless interjection, it is for many their eternal selection.
(Copyright ©08/2007)
Psalm 47
Christ ascending and reigning.
O for a shout of sacred joy
To God the sovereign King!
Let every land their tongues employ,
And hymns of triumph sing.
Jesus our God ascends on high,
His heav'nly guards around
Attend him rising through the sky,
With trumpets' joyful sound.
While angels shout and praise their King,
Let mortals learn their strains;
Let all the earth his honors sing;
O'er all the earth he reigns.
Rehearse his praise with awe profound,
Let knowledge lead the song,
Nor mock him with a solemn sound
Upon a thoughtless tongue.
In Isr'el stood his ancient throne,
He loved that chosen race;
But now he calls the world his own,
And heathens taste his grace.
The British islands are the Lord's,
There Abraham's God is known;
While powers and princes, shields and swords,
Submit before his throne.
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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Hymn 23
The sight of God and Christ in heaven.
Descend from heav'n, immortal Dove,
Stoop down and take us on thy wings,
And mount and bear us far above
The reach of these inferior things:
Beyond, beyond this lower sky,
Up where eternal ages roll;
Where solid pleasures never die,
And fruits immortal feast the soul.
O for a sight, a pleasing sight
Of our Almighty Father's throne!
There sits our Savior crowned with light,
Clothed in a body like our own.
Adoring saints around him stand,
And thrones and powers before him fall;
The God shines gracious through the man,
And sheds sweet glories on them all.
O what amazing joys they feel
While to their golden harps they sing,
And sit on every heav'nly hill,
And spread the triumphs of their King!
When shall the day, dear Lord, appear,
That I shall mount to dwell above,
And stand and bow amongst them there,
And view thy face, and sing, and love?
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 43
Christ's sufferings and glory.
Now for a tune of lofty praise
To great Jehovah's equal Son!
Awake, my voice, in heav'nly lays
Tell the loud wonders he hath done.
Sing how he left the worlds of light,
And the bright robes he wore above;
How swift and joyful was his flight,
On wings of everlasting love!
[Down to this base, this sinful earth,
He came to raise our nature high;
He came t' atone Almighty wrath;
Jesus, the God, was born to die.]
[Hell and its lions roared around,
His precious blood the monsters spilt;
While weighty sorrows pressed him down,
Large as the loads of all our guilt.]
Deep in the shades of gloomy death
Th' almighty Captive pris'ner lay,
Th' almighty Captive left the earth,
And rose to everlasting day.
Lift up your eyes, ye sons of light,
Up to his throne of shining grace;
See what immortal glories sit
Round the sweet beauties of his face!
Amongst a thousand harps and songs,
Jesus, the God, exalted reigns;
His sacred name fills all their tongues,
And echoes through the heav'nly plains.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 44 part 1
Christ's dying, rising, and reigning.
Luke 23:27,29,44-46; Mt. 27:50,57; 28:6ff.
He dies! the friend of sinners dies!
Lo! Salem's daughters weep around;
A solemn darkness veils the skies;
A sudden trembling shakes the ground.
Come, saints, and drop a tear or two
For him who groaned beneath your load:
He shed a thousand drops for you,
A thousand drops of richer blood.
Here's love and grief beyond degree,
The Lord of glory dies for men!
But lo! what sudden joys we see;
Jesus the dead revives again!
The rising God forsakes the tomb!
The tomb in vain forbids his rise;
Cherubic legions guard him home,
And shout him welcome to the skies
Break off your fears, ye saints, and tell
How high our great Deliv'rer reigns;
Sing how he spoiled the hosts of hell,
And led the monster Death in chains.
Say, "Live for ever, wondrous King!
Born to redeem, and strong to save;
Then ask the monster, "Where's thy sting?"
And, "Where's thy vict'ry, boasting Grave?"
poem by Isaac Watts
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