Psalm 145 part 3
v.14,17ff
C. M.
Mercy to sufferers; or, God hearing prayer.
Let every tongue thy goodness speak,
Thou sovereign Lord of all;
Thy strength'ning hands uphold the weak,
And raise the poor that fall.
When sorrow bows the spirit down,
Or virtue lies distressed
Beneath some proud oppressor's frown,
Thou giv'st the mourners rest.
The Lord supports our tott'ring days,
And guides our giddy youth;
Holy and just are all his ways,
And all his words are truth.
He knows the pains his servants feel,
He hears his children cry,
And their best wishes to fulfil,
His grace is ever nigh.
His mercy never shall remove
From men of heart sincere;
He saves the souls whose humble love
Is joined with holy fear.
[His stubborn foes his sword shall slay,
And pierce their hearts with pain
But none that serve the Lord shall say,
"They sought his aid in vain."]
[My lips shall dwell upon his praise,
And spread his fame abroad;
Let all the sons of Adam raise
The honors of their God.]
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Psalm 12
The saint's safety and hope in evil times.
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.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 119 part 12
Breathing after comfort and deliverance.
ver. 153
My God, consider my distress,
Let mercy plead my cause;
Though I have sinned against thy grace,
I can't forget thy laws.
ver. 39,116
Forbid, forbid the sharp reproach
Which I so justly fear;
Uphold my life, uphold my hopes,
Not let my shame appear.
ver. 122,135
Be thou a surety, Lord, for me,
Nor let the proud oppress;
But make thy waiting servant see
The shining of thy face.
ver. 82
My eyes with expectation fail,
My heart within me cries,
"When will the Lord his truth fulfil,
And make my comforts rise?"
ver. 132
Look down upon my sorrows, Lord,
And show thy grace the same
As thou art ever wont t' afford
To those that love thy name.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm XXXIV: Lord, I Will Bless Thee
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 anti 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.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 91 part 2
v.9-16
C. M.
Protection from death, guard of angels, victory and deliverance.
Ye sons of men, a feeble race,
Exposed to every snare,
Come, make the Lord your dwelling-place,
And try and trust his care.
No ill shall enter where you dwell;
Or if the plague come nigh,
And sweep the wicked down to hell,
'Twill raise his saints on high.
He'll give his angels charge to keep
Your feet in all their ways;
To watch your pillow while you sleep,
And guard your happy days.
Their hands shall bear you, lest you fall
And dash against the stones:
Are they not servants at his call,
And sent t' attend his sons?
Adders and lions ye shall tread;
The tempters wiles defeat;
He that hath broke the serpent's head
Puts him beneath your feet.
"Because on me they set their love,
I'll save them," saith the Lord;
"I'll bear their joyful souls above
Destruction and the sword.
"My grace shall answer when they call,
In trouble I'll be nigh;
My power shall help them when they fall,
And raise them when they die.
"Those that on earth my name have known
I'll honor them in heav'n;
There my salvation shall be shown,
And endless life be giv'n."
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 86
Thy gracious ear, O Lord, encline,
O hear me I thee pray,
For I am poor, and almost pine
With need, and sad decay.
Preserve my soul, for *I have trod Heb. I am good, loving,
Thy waies, and love the just, a doer of good and
Save thou thy servant O my God holy things
Who still in thee doth trust.
Pity me Lord for daily thee
I call; 4 O make rejoyce
Thy Servants Soul; for Lord to thee
I lift my soul and voice,
For thou art good, thou Lord art prone
To pardon, thou to all
Art full of mercy, thou alone
To them that on thee call.
Unto my supplication Lord
Give ear, and to the crie
Of my incessant praiers afford
Thy hearing graciously.
I in the day of my distress
Will call on thee for aid;
For thou wilt grant me free access
And answer, what I pray'd.
Like thee among the gods is none
O Lord, nor any works
Of all that other Gods have done
Like to thy glorious works.
The Nations all whom thou hast made
Shall come, and all shall frame
To bow them low before thee Lord,
And glorifie thy name.
For great thou art, and wonders great
By thy strong hand are done,
Thou in thy everlasting Seat
Remainest God alone.
Teach me O Lord thy way most right,
I in thy truth will hide,
To fear thy name my heart unite
So shall it never slide.
Thee will I praise O Lord my God
Thee honour, and adore
With my whole heart, and blaze abroad
Thy name for ever more.
For great thy mercy is toward me,
And thou hast free'd my Soul
Eev'n from the lowest Hell set free
From deepest darkness foul.
O God the proud against me rise
And violent men are met
To seek my life, and in their eyes
No fear of thee have set.
But thou Lord art the God most mild
Readiest thy grace to shew,
Slow to be angry, and art stil'd
Most mercifull, most true.
O turn to me thy face at length,
And me have mercy on,
Unto thy servant give thy strength,
And save thy hand-maids Son.
Some sign of good to me afford,
And let my foes then see
And be asham'd, because thou Lord
Do'st help and comfort me.
poem by John Milton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hymn 84
Salvation, righteousness, and strength in Christ.
Isa. 45:21-25.
Jehovah speaks! let Isr'el hear;
Let all the earth rejoice and fear,
While God's eternal Son proclaims
His sovereign honors and his names.
"I am the last, and I the first,
The Savior God, and God the just;
There's none beside pretends to show
Such justice and salvation too.
["Ye that in shades of darkness dwell,
Just on the verge of death and hell,
Look up to me from distant lands;
Light, life, and heav'n are in my hands.
"I by my holy name have sworn,
Nor shall the word in vain return;
To me shall all things bend the knee,
And every tongue shall swear to me.]
"In me alone shall men confess
Lies all their strength and righteousness;
But such as dare despise my name,
I'll clothe them with eternal shame.
"In me, the Lord, shall all the seed
Of Isr'el from their sins be freed;
And by their shining graces prove
Their int'rest in my pard'ning love."
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 34 part 1
God's care of the saints; or, Deliverance by prayer.
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.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Heriot's Ford
"What's that that hirples at my side?"
The foe that you must fight, my lord.
"That rides as fast as I can ride?"
The shadow of your might, my lord.
"Then wheel my horse against the foe!"
He's down and overpast, my lord.
You war against the sunset-glow,
The judgment follows fast, my lord!
"Oh, who will stay the sun's descent?"
King Joshua he is dead, my lord.
"I need an hour to repent!"
'Tis what our sister said, my lord.
"Oh, do not slay me in my sins!"
You're safe awhile with us, my lord.
"Nay, kill me ere my fear begins!"
We would not serve you thus, my lord.
"Where is the doom that I must face?"
Three little leagues away, my lord.
"Then mend the horses' laggard pace!"
We need them for next day, my lord.
"Next day--next day! Unloose my cords!"
Our sister needed none, my lord.
You had no mind to face our swords,
And--where can cowards run, my lord?
"You would not kill the soul alive?"
'Twas thus our sister cried, my lord.
"I dare not die with none to shrive."
But so our sister died, my lord.
"Then wipe the sweat from brow and cheek."
It runnels forth afresh, my lord.
"Uphold me--for the flesh is weak."
You've finished with the Flesh, my lord!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 56
Deliverance from oppression and falsehood.
O Thou whose justice reigns on high,
And makes th' oppressor cease,
Behold how envious sinners try
To vex and break my peace.
The sons of violence and lies
Join to devour me, Lord;
But as my hourly dangers rise,
My refuge is thy word.
In God most holy, just, and true,
I have reposed my trust;
Nor will I fear what flesh can do,
The offspring of the dust.
They wrest my words to mischief still,
Charge me with unknown faults;
Mischief doth all their counsels fill,
And malice all their thoughts.
Shall they escape without thy frown?
Must their devices stand?
O cast the haughty sinner down,
And let him know thy hand.
PAUSE.
God counts the sorrows of his saints,
Their groans affect his ears;
Thou hast a book for my complaints,
A bottle for my tears.
When to thy throne I raise my cry,
The wicked fear and flee;
So swift is prayer to reach the sky,
So near is God to me.
In thee, most holy, just, and true,
I have reposed my trust;
Nor will I fear what man can do,
The offspring of the dust.
Thy solemn vows are on me, Lord,
Thou shalt receive my praise;
I'll sing, "How faithful is thy word,
How righteous all thy ways!"
Thou hast secured my soul from death,
O set thy pris'ner free!
That heart and hand, and life and breath,
May be employ'd for thee.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hymn 87
God dwells with the humble and penitent.
Isa. 47:15,16.
Thus saith the high and lofty One:
"I sit upon my holy throne;
My name is God, I dwell on high,
Dwell in my own eternity.
"But I descend to worlds below,
On earth I have a mansion too;
The humble spirit and contrite
Is an abode of my delight.
"The humble soul my words revive,
I bid the mourning sinner live,
Heal all the broken hearts I find,
And ease the sorrows of the mind.
["When I contend against their sin,
I make them know how vile they've been;
But should my wrath for ever smoke,
Their souls would sink beneath my stroke."]
O may thy pard'ning grace be nigh,
Lest we should faint, despair, and die!
Thus shall our better thoughts approve
The methods of thy chast'ning love.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 115
The true God our refuge; or, Idolatry reproved.
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.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 9 part 1
Wrath and mercy from the judgment-seat.
With my whole heart I'll raise my song,
Thy wonders I'll proclaim;
Thou, sovereign Judge of right and wrong,
Wilt put my foes to shame.
I'll sing thy majesty and grace;
My God prepares his throne
To judge the world in righteousness,
And make his vengeance known.
Then shall the Lord a refuge prove
For all the poor oppressed;
To save the people of his love,
And give the weary rest.
The men that know thy name will trust
In thy abundant grace;
For thou hast ne'er forsook the just,
Who humbly seek thy face.
Sing praises to the righteous Lord,
Who dwells on Zion's hill,
Who executes his threatening word,
And doth his grace fulfil.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hymn 167
The Divine Perfections.
Great God! thy glories shall employ
My holy fear, my humble joy;
My lips in songs of honor bring
Their tribute to th' eternal King.
[Earth, and the stars, and worlds unknown,
Depend precarious on his throne;
All nature hangs upon his word,
And grace and glory own their Lord.]
[His sovereign power what mortal knows?
If be command, who dares oppose?
With strength he girds himself around,
And treads the rebels to the ground.]
[Who shall pretend to teach him skill,
Or guide the counsels of his will?
His wisdom, like a sea divine,
Flows deep and high beyond our line.]
[His name is holy, and his eye
Burns with immortal jealousy
He hates the sons of pride, and sheds
His fiery vengeance on their heads.]
[The beaming of his piercing sight
Bring dark hypocrisy to light;
Death and destruction naked lie,
And hell uncovered to his eye.]
[Th' eternal law before him stands;
His justice, with impartial hands,
Divides to all their due reward,
Or by the sceptre or the sword.]
[His mercy, like a boundless sea,
Washes our load of guilt away;
While his own Son came down and died
T' engage his justice on our side.]
[Each of his words demands my faith;
My soul can rest on all he saith;
His truth inviolably keeps
The largest promise of his lips.]
O tell me, with a gentle voice,
"Thou art my God," and I'll rejoice!
Filled with thy love, I dare proclaim
The brightest honors of thy name.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Te Deum
Thee, Sovereign God, our grateful accents praise;
We own thee Lord, and bless thy wondrous ways;
To thee, Eternal Father, earth's whole frame
With loudest trumpets sounds immortal fame.
Lord God of Hosts! for thee the heavenly powers,
With sounding anthems, fill the vaulted towers.
Thy Cherubims thee Holy, Holy, Holy, cry;
Thrice Holy, all the Seraphims reply,
And thrice returning echoes endless songs supply.
Both heaven and earth thy majesty display;
They owe their beauty to thy glorious ray.
Thy praises fill the loud apostles' quire:
The train of prophets in the song conspire.
Legions of martyrs in the chorus shine,
And vocal blood with vocal music join.[24]
By these thy church, inspired by heavenly art,
Around the world maintains a second part,
And tunes her sweetest notes, O God, to thee,
The Father of unbounded majesty;
The Son, adored co-partner of thy seat,
And equal everlasting Paraclete.
Thou King of Glory, Christ, of the Most High,
Thou co-eternal filial Deity;
Thou who, to save the world's impending doom,
Vouchsafst to dwell within a virgin's womb;
Old tyrant Death disarmed, before thee flew
The bolts of heaven, and back the foldings drew,
To give access, and make thy faithful way;
From God's right hand thy filial beams display.
Thou art to judge the living and the dead;
Then spare those souls for whom thy veins have bled.
O take us up amongst thy bless'd above,
To share with them thy everlasting love.
Preserve, O Lord! thy people, and enhance
Thy blessing on thine own inheritance.
For ever raise their hearts, and rule their ways,
Each day we bless thee, and proclaim thy praise;
No age shall fail to celebrate thy name,
No hour neglect thy everlasting fame.
Preserve our souls, O Lord, this day from ill;
Have mercy on us, Lord, have mercy still:
As we have hoped, do thou reward our pain;
We've hoped in thee--let not our hope be vain.
poem by John Dryden
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm II: Why Did the Nations
Why did the nations join to slay
The Lord's anointed Son?
Why did they cast His laws away
And tread His gospel down?
The Lord, that sits above the skies,
Derides their rage below;
He speaks with vengeance in His eyes
And strikes their spirits through.
"I call Him My Eternal Son,
And raise Him from the dead;
I make My holy hill His throne,
And wide His Kingdom spread."
"Ask me, My Son, and then enjoy
The utmost heathen lands:
Thy rod of iron shall destroy
The rebel that withstands."
Be wise, ye rulers of the earth,
Obey the anointed Lord,
Adore the King of Heav'nly birth,
And tremble at His word.
With humble love address his throne;
For if He frown, you die:
Those are secure, and those alone,
Who on His grace rely.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 142
God is the hope of the helpless.
To God I made my sorrows known,
From God I sought relief;
In long complaints before his throne
I poured out all my grief.
My soul was overwhelmed with woes,
My heart began to break;
My God, who all my burden knows,
He knows the way I take.
On every side I cast mine eye,
And found my helpers gone;
While friends and strangers passed me by,
Neglected or unknown.
Then did I raise a louder cry,
And called thy mercy near,-
"Thou art my portion when I die;
Be thou my refuge here."
Lord, I am brought exceeding low,
Now let thine ear attend,
And make my foes who vex me know
I've an almighty Friend.
From my sad prison set me free,
Then shall I praise thy name,
And holy men shall join with me
Thy kindness to proclaim.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 23
God our shepherd.
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.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Upon My Dear and Loving Husband his Going into England Jan. 16, 1661
O thou Most High who rulest all
And hear'st the prayers of thine,
O hearken, Lord, unto my suit
And my petition sign.
Into Thy everlasting arms Of mercy
I commend Thy servant, Lord.
Keep and preserve My husband,
my dear friend.
At Thy command, O Lord, he went,
Nor nought could keep him back.
Then let Thy promise joy his heart,
O help and be not slack.
Uphold my heart in Thee, O God.
Thou art my strength and stay,
Thou see'st how weak and frail I am,
Hide not Thy face away.
I in obedience to Thy will
Thou knowest did submit.
It was my duty so to do;
O Lord, accept of it.
Unthankfulness for mercies past
Impute Thou not to me.
O Lord, Thou know'st my weak desire
Was to sing praise to Thee.
Lord, be Thou pilot to the ship
And send them prosperous gales.
In storms and sickness, Lord, preserve.
Thy goodness never fails.
Unto Thy work he hath in hand
Lord, grant Thou good success
And favour in their eyes to whom
He shall make his address.
Remember, Lord, Thy folk whom Thou
To wilderness hast brought;
Let not Thine own inheritance
Be sold away for nought.
But tokens of Thy favour give,
With joy send back my dear
That I and all Thy servants may
Rejoice with heavenly cheer.
Lord, let my eyes see once again
Him whom Thou gavest me
That we together may sing praise
Forever unto Thee.
And the remainder of our days
Shall consecrated be
With an engaged heart to sing
All praises unto Thee.
poem by Anne Bradstreet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
At the Close of the Year
Let hearts and tongues unite,
And loud thanksgivings raise:
'Tis duty, mingled with delight,
To sing the Saviour's praise.
To him we owe our breath,
He took us from the womb,
Which else had shut us up in death,
And prov'd an early tomb.
When on the breast we hung,
Our help was in the Lord;
'Twas he first taught our infant tongue
To form the lisping word.
When in our blood we lay,
He would not let us die,
Because his love had fix'd a day
To bring salvation nigh.
In childhood and in youth,
His eye was on us still:
Though strangers to his love and truth,
And prone to cross his will.
And since his name we knew,
How gracious has he been:
What dangers has he led us through,
What mercies have we seen!
Now through another year,
Supported by his care,
We raise our Ebenezer here,
"The Lord has help'd thus far."
Our lot in future years
Unable to foresee,
He kindly, to prevent our fears,
Says, "Leave it all to me."
Yea, Lord, we wish to cast
Our cares upon thy breast!
Help us to praise thee for the past,
And trust thee for the rest.
poem by John Newton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!