Psalm 31 part 1
v.5,13-19,22,23
C. M.
Deliverance from death.
Unto thine hand, O God of truth,
My spirit I commit;
Thou hast redeemed my soul from death,
And saved me from the pit.
The passions of my hope and fear
Maintained a doubtful strife,
While sorrow, pain, and sin conspired
To take away my life.
"My times are in thine hand," I cried,
"Though I draw near the dust;
Thou art the refuge where I hide,
The God in whom I trust.
O make thy reconciled face
Upon thy servant shine,
And save me for thy mercy's sake,
For I'm entirely thine.
PAUSE.
['Twas in my haste my spirit said,
"I must despair and die,
I am cut off before thine eyes;
But thou hast heard my cry.]
Thy goodness how divinely free!
How wondrous is thy grace
To those that fear thy majesty,
And trust thy promises!
O love the Lord, all ye his saints,
And sing his praises loud;
He'll bend his ear to your complaints,
And recompense the proud.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Related quotes
The Three Enemies
THE FLESH
"Sweet, thou art pale."
"More pale to see,
Christ hung upon the cruel tree
And bore His Father's wrath for me."
"Sweet, thou art sad."
"Beneath a rod
More heavy, Christ for my sake trod
The winepress of the wrath of God."
"Sweet, thou art weary."
"Not so Christ:
Whose mighty love of me suffic'd
For Strength, Salvation, Eucharist."
"Sweet, thou art footsore."
"If I bleed,
His feet have bled; yea in my need
His Heart once bled for mine indeed."
THE WORLD
"Sweet, thou art young."
"So He was young
Who for my sake in silence hung
Upon the Cross with Passion wrung."
"Look, thou art fair."
"He was more fair
Than men, Who deign'd for me to wear
A visage marr'd beyond compare."
"And thou hast riches."
"Daily bread:
All else is His: Who, living, dead,
For me lack'd where to lay His Head."
"And life is sweet."
"It was not so
To Him, Whose Cup did overflow
With mine unutterable woe."
THE DEVIL
"Thou drinkest deep."
"When Christ would sup
He drain'd the dregs from out my cup:
So how should I be lifted up?"
"Thou shalt win Glory."
"In the skies,
Lord Jesus, cover up mine eyes
Lest they should look on vanities."
"Thou shalt have Knowledge."
"Helpless dust!
In Thee, O Lord, I put my trust:
Answer Thou for me, Wise and Just."
"And Might."--
"Get thee behind me. Lord,
Who hast redeem'd and not abhorr'd
My soul, oh keep it by Thy Word."
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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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
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Psalm 31 part 2
v.7-13,18-21
C. M.
Deliverance from slander and reproach.
My heart rejoices in thy name,
My God, my help, my trust;
Thou hast preserved my face from shame,
Mine honor from the dust.
"My life is spent with grief," I cried,
"My years consumed in groans,
My strength decays, mine eyes are dried,
And sorrow wastes my bones."
Among mine enemies my name
Was a mere proverb grown,
While to my neighbors I became
Forgotten and unknown.
Slander and fear on every side
Seized and beset me round
I to the throne of grace applied,
And speedy rescue found.
PAUSE.
How great deliverance thou hast wrought
Before the sons of men!
The lying lips to silence brought,
And made their boastings vain!
Thy children from the strife of tongues
Shall thy pavilion hide;
Guard them from infamy and wrongs,
And crush the sons of pride.
Within thy secret presence, Lord,
Let me for ever dwell;
No fenced city, walled and barred,
Secures a saint so well.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn XXVI: I Thirst, Thou Wounded Lamb of God
I thirst, thou wounded Lamb of God,
To wash me in thy cleansing blood,
To dwell within thy wounds; then pain
Is sweet, and life or death is gain.
Take my poor heart, and let it be
For ever closed to all but thee!
Seal thou my breast, and let me we;
That pledge of love for ever there!
How blest are they who still abide
Close sheltered in thy bleeding side,
Who life and strength from thence derive,
And by thee move, and in thee live.
What are our works but sin and death,
Till thou thy quickening Spirit breathe!
Thou giv'st the power thy grace to move;
O wondrous grace! O boundless love!
How can it be, thou heavenly King,
That thou shouldst us to glory bring?
Make slaves the partners of thy throne,
Decked with a never-fading crown?
Hence our hearts melt, our eyes o'erflow,
Our words are lost; nor will we know,
Nor will we think of aught beside,
"My Lord, my Love is crucified."
Ah, Lord! enlarge our scanty thought,
To know the wonders thou hast wrought;
Unloose our stammering tongues, to tell
Thy love immense, unsearchable.
First-born of many brethren thou!
To thee, lo! all our souls we bow:
To thee our hearts and hands we give:
Thine may we die, thine may we live!
poem by John Wesley
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Sweet empty sky of June without a stain,
O Lord, the hope of Israel, all they that forsake
Thee shall be ashamed ; and they that depart from
Thee, shall be written in the earth, because they have
forsaken the Lord, the fountain of living waters.
Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed ; save me,
and I shall be saved, for Thou art my health, and my
great deliverer.
I said in the cutting off of my days, I shall go to
the gates of the grave ; I have deprived myself of the
residue of my years.
I said, I shall not see the Lord, even the Lord in the
land of the living : I shall behold man no more with
the inhabitants of the world.
O Lord ! by Thee doth man live, and from Thee is
the life of my spirit : therefore wilt Thou recover me,
and make me to live.
Thou hast in love to my soul delivered it from the
pit of corruption ; for Thou hast cast all my sins
behind Thy back.
For Thy name's sake hast Thou put off thine anger ;
for Thy praise hast Thou refrained from me, that I
should not be cut off.
For the grave cannot praise Thee, death cannot
celebrate Thee : they that go down into the pit, cannot
hope for Thy truth.
The living, the living, he shall praise Thee, as I do
this day : the father to the children shall make known
Thy truth.
O Lord ! Thou hast been merciful, Thou hast
brought back my life from corruption : Thou hast
redeemed me from my sin.
They that follow after lying vanities, forsake their
own mercy.
Therefore shall Thy songs be with me, and my
prayer unto the God of my life.
I will go unto the altar of my God, unto God, the
joy of my youth ; and in Thy fear will I worship
towards Thy holy temple.
I will sacrifice unto Thee with the voice of thanks-
giving ; I will pay that which I have vowed ; sal-
vation is of the Lord.
poem by Henry Vaughan
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I Said to Love.
I said to Love,
"It is not now as in old days
When men adored thee and thy ways
All else above;
Named thee the Boy, the Bright, the One
Who spread a heaven beneath the sun,"
I said to Love.
I said to him,
"We now know more of thee than then;
We were but weak in judgment when,
With hearts abrim,
We clamoured thee that thou would'st please
Inflict on us thine agonies,"
I said to him.
I said to Love,
"Thou art not young, thou art not fair,
No faery darts, no cherub air,
Nor swan, nor dove
Are thine; but features pitiless,
And iron daggers of distress,"
I said to Love.
"Depart then, Love! . . .
- Man's race shall end, dost threaten thou?
The age to come the man of now
Know nothing of? -
We fear not such a threat from thee;
We are too old in apathy!
Mankind shall cease.--So let it be,"
I said to Love.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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I said to Love
I said to Love,
"It is not now as in old days
When men adored thee and thy ways
All else above;
Named thee the Boy, the Bright, the One
Who spread a heaven beneath the sun,"
I said to Love.
I said to him,
"We now know more of thee than then;
We were but weak in judgment when,
With hearts abrim,
We clamoured thee that thou would'st please
Inflict on us thine agonies,"
I said to him.
I said to Love,
"Thou art not young, thou art not fair,
No elfin darts, no cherub air,
Nor swan, nor dove
Are thine; but features pitiless,
And iron daggers of distress,"
I said to Love.
"Depart then, Love!
Man's race shall perish, threatenest thou,
WIthout thy kindling coupling-vow?
The age to come the man of now
Know nothing of?
We fear not such a threat from thee;
We are too old in apathy!
Mankind shall cease.. -
So let it be,"
I said to Love.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Psalm 116 part 1
Recovery from sickness.
I love the Lord; he heard my cries,
And pitied every groan;
Long as I live, when troubles rise,
I'll hasten to his throne.
I love the Lord; he bowed his ear,
And chased my griefs away;
O let my heart no more despair,
While I have breath to pray!
My flesh declined, my spirits fell,
And I drew near the dead;
While inward pangs and fears of hell
Perplexed my wakeful head.
"My God," I cried, "thy servant save,
"Thou ever good and just;
Thy power can rescue from the grave,
Thy power is all my trust."
The Lord beheld me sore distressed,
He bid my pains remove
Return, my soul, to God thy rest,
For thou hast known his love.
My God hath saved my soul from death,
And dried my falling tears;
Now to his praise I'll spend my breath,
And my remaining years.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Harmosan
Now the third and fatal conflict for the Persian throne was done,
And the Moslem's fiery valor had the crowning victory won.
Harmosan, the last and boldest the invader to defy,
Captive overborne by numbers, they were bringing forth to die.
Then exclaimed the noble captive: "Lo! I perish in my thirst;
Give me but one drink of water, and let then arrive the worst!"
In his hand he took the goblet, but awhle the draught forbore,
Seeming doubtully the purpose of the foemen to explore.
Well might then have paused the bravest -- for around him angry foes
With a hedge of naked weapons did that lonely man enclose.
"But what fear'st thou?" cried the caliph; -- "is it, friend, a secret blow?
Fear it not! -- our gallant Moslem no such treacherous dealing know.
"Thou mayst quench thy thirst securely, for thou shalt not die before
Thou hast drunk that cup of water -- this reprieve is thine -- no more!"
Quick the satrap dashed the goblet down to earth with ready hand,
And the liquid sand for ever, lost amid the burning sand.
"Thou hast said that mine my life is, till the water of that cup
I have drained; then bid thy servants that spilled water gather up!"
For a moment stood the calph as by doubtful passions stirred --
Then exclaimed: "For ever sacred must remain a monarch's word.
"Bring another cup, and straightway to the noble Persian give:
Drink, I said before, and perish -- now I bid thee drink and live!"
poem by Richard Chenevix Trench
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Comfort In Tears
How happens it that thou art sad,
While happy all appear?
Thine eye proclaims too well that thou
Hast wept full many a tear.
"If I have wept in solitude,
None other shares my grief,
And tears to me sweet balsam are,
And give my heart relief."
Thy happy friends invite thee now,--
Oh come, then, to our breast!
And let the loss thou hast sustain'd
Be there to us confess'd!
"Ye shout, torment me, knowing not
What 'tis afflicteth me;
Ah no! I have sustained no loss,
Whate'er may wanting be."
If so it is, arise in haste!
Thou'rt young and full of life.
At years like thine, man's blest with strength.
And courage for the strife.
"Ah no! in vain 'twould be to strive,
The thing I seek is far;
It dwells as high, it gleams as fair
As yonder glitt'ring star."
The stars we never long to clasp,
We revel in their light,
And with enchantment upward gaze,
Each clear and radiant night.
"And I with rapture upward gaze,
On many a blissful day;
Then let me pass the night in tears,
Till tears are wip'd away!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Psalm 35 part 1
v.1-9
C. M.
Prayer and faith of persecuted saints.
Now plead my cause, Almighty God,
With all the sons of strife;
And fight against the men of blood,
Who fight against my life.
Draw out thy spear and stop their way,
Lift thine avenging rod;
But to my soul in mercy say,
"I am thy Savior God!"
They plant their snares to catch my feet,
And nets of mischief spread;
Plunge the destroyers in the pit
That their own hands have made.
Let fogs and darkness hide their way,
And slipp'ry be their ground;
Thy wrath shall make their lives a prey,
And all their rage confound.
They fly like chaff before the wind,
Before thine angry breath;
The angel of the Lord behind
Pursues them down to death.
They love the road that leads to hell;
Then let the rebels die,
Whose malice is implacable
Against the Lord on high.
But if thou hast a chosen few
Amongst that impious race,
Divide them from the bloody crew,
By thy surprising grace.
Then will I raise my tuneful voice,
To make thy wonders known;
In their salvation I'll rejoice,
And bless thee for my own.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 89
The covenant made with Christ; or, The true David.
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.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 22 part 1
v.1-16
C. M.
The sufferings and death of Christ.
Why has my God my soul forsook,
Nor will a smile afford?
(Thus David once in anguish spoke,
And thus our dying Lord.)
Though 'tis thy chief delight to dwell
Among thy praising saints,
Yet thou canst hear a groan as well,
And pity our complaints.
Our fathers trusted in thy name,
And great deliv'rance found;
But I'm a worm, despised of men,
And trodden to the ground.
Shaking the head, they pass me by,
And laugh my soul to scorn;
"In vain he trusts in God," they cry,.
"Neglected and forlorn."
But thou art he who formed my flesh
By thine almighty word;
And since I hung upon the breast,
My hope is in the Lord.
Why will my Father hide his face,
When foes stand threat'ning round,
In the dark hour of deep distress,
And not a helper found?
PAUSE.
Behold thy darling left among
The cruel and the proud,
As bulls of Bashan, fierce and strong,
As lions roaring loud.
From earth and hell my sorrows meet
To multiply the smart;
They nail my hands, they pierce my feet,
And try to vex my heart.
Yet if thy sovereign hand let loose
The rage of earth and hell,
Why will my heav'nly Father bruise
The Son he loves so well?
My God, if possible it be,
Withhold this bitter cup
But I resign my will to thee,
And drink the sorrows up).
My heart dissolves with pangs unknown,
In groans I waste my breath;
Thy heavy hand has brought me down
Low as the dust of death.
Father, I give my spirit up,
And trust it in thy hand;
My dying flesh shall rest in hope,
And rise at thy command.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Alchemy Of King Midas
The king had cause to worry much
Though "World's richest man" be told
Alas there was nobody Midas dare touch
'Lest he turn them into solid gold
One day the King did shake a fist,
At God for punishing him this way
"I only wanted wealth" he hissed
Then on bended knees began to pray
"Lord I'm sorry for my selfishness
I'm sorry for unbridled greed
I pray you once again will bless
This wretched soul in dire need
God looked down after brief silence;
In gentle voice these words were spoken
"Thou hast sinned and tried mine patience
I'm pleased to see thy pride is broken"
"I lift My Gift thou hast be-spoiled,
Restored thy privilege to touch others,
Wash thine hands that once were soiled
Pledge this day to serve thy brothers"
King Midas with gratitude then cried out;
"Thy mercy Lord shall never be in doubt"
ROTMS
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ROTMS.blogspot.com
poem by Ray Lucero
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Opifex
As I was carving images from clouds,
And tinting them with soft ethereal dyes
Pressed from the pulp of dreams, one comes, and cries:--
"Forbear!" and all my heaven with gloom enshrouds.
"Forbear!" Thou hast no tools wherewith to essay
The delicate waves of that elusive grain:
Wouldst have due recompense of vulgar pain?
The potter's wheel for thee, and some coarse clay!
"So work, if work thou must, O humbly skilled!
Thou hast not known the Master; in thy soul
His spirit moves not with a sweet control;
Thou art outside, and art not of the guild."
Thereat I rose, and from his presence passed,
But, going, murmured:--"To the God above,
Who holds my heart, and knows its store of love,
I turn from thee, thou proud iconoclast."
Then on the shore God stooped to me, and said:--
"He spake the truth: even so the springs are set
That move thy life, nor will they suffer let,
Nor change their scope; else, living, thou wert dead.
"This is thy life: indulge its natural flow,
And carve these forms. They yet may find a place
On shelves for them reserved. In any case,
I bid thee carve them, knowing what I know."
poem by Thomas Edward Brown
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Prayer Answered by Crosses
I ask'd the Lord, that I might grow
In faith, and love, and ev'ry grace,
Might more of his salvation know,
And seek more earnestly his face.
'Twas he who taught me thus to pray,
And he, I trust has answer'd pray'r;
But it has been in such a way,
As almost drove me to despair.
I hop'd that in some favour'd hour,
At once he'd answer my request:
And by his love's constraining pow'r,
Subdue my sins, and give me rest.
Instead of this. he made me feel
The hidden evils of my heart;
And let the angry pow'rs of hell
Assault my soul in ev'ry part.
Yea more, with his own hand he seem'd
Intent to aggravate my woe;
Cross'd all the fair designs I schem'd,
Blasted my gourds, and laid me low.
Lord, why is this, I trembling cry'd,
Wilt thou pursue thy worm to death?
"'Tis in this way," the Lord reply'd,
"I answer pray'r for grace and faith.
"These inward trials I employ,
"From self and pride to set thee free;
"And break thy schemes of earthly joy,
"That thou mayst seek thy all in me."
poem by John Newton
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Psalm 40
v.5-10
L. M.
Christ our sacrifice.
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."
poem by Isaac Watts
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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
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Psalm 74
The church pleading with God under sore persecutions.
Will God for ever cast us off?
His wrath for ever smoke
Against the people of his love,
His little chosen flock?
Think of the tribes so dearly bought
With their Redeemer's blood;
Nor let thy Zion be forgot,
Where once thy glory stood.
Lift up thy feet and march in haste,
Aloud our ruin calls;
See what a wide and fearful waste
Is made within thy walls.
Where once thy churches prayed and sang,
Thy foes profanely roar;
Over thy gates their ensigns hang,
Sad tokens of their power.
How are the seats of worship broke!
They tear the buildings down,
And he that deals the heaviest stroke
Procures the chief renown.
With flames they threaten to destroy
Thy children in their nest;
"Come, let us burn at once," they cry,
"The temple and the priest."
And still, to heighten our distress,
Thy presence is withdrawn;
Thy wonted signs of power and grace,
Thy power and grace are gone.
No prophet speaks to calm our woes,
But all the seers mourn;
There's not a soul amongst us knows
The time of thy return.
PAUSE.
How long, eternal God, how long
Shall men of pride blaspheme?
Shall saints be made their endless song,
And bear immortal shame?
Canst thou for ever sit and hear
Thine holy name profaned?
And still thy jealousy forbear,
And still withhold thine hand?
What strange deliv'rance hast thou shown
In ages long before!
And now no other God we own,
No other God adore.
Thou didst divide the raging sea
By thy resistless might,
To make thy tribes a wondrous way,
And then secure their flight.
Is not the world of nature thine,
The darkness and the day?
Didst thou not bid the morning shine,
And mark the sun his way?
Hath not thy power formed every coast,
And set the earth its bounds,
With summer's heat, and winter's frost,
In their perpetual rounds?
And shall the sons of earth and dust
That sacred power blaspheme?
Will not thy hand that formed them first
Avenge thine injured name?
Think oh the cov'nant thou hast made,
And all thy words of love;
Nor let the birds of prey invade,
And vex thy mourning dove.
Our foes would triumph in our blood,
And make our hope their jest;
Plead thy own cause, Almighty God,
And give thy children rest.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn
I HEARD a voice at midnight, and it cried,
"O weary heart, O soul for which I died,
Why wilt thou spurn My wounded hands and side?
"Is there a heart more tender, more divine,
Than that sad heart which gave itself for thine?
5
Could there be love more warm, more full than Mine?
"What other touch can still thy trembling breath?
What other hand can hold thee after death?
What bread so sweet to him that hungereth?
"Warm is thy chamber, soft and warm thy bed;
10
Bleak, howling winds are round the path I tread;—
The Son of man can nowhere lay His head.
"Wilt thou not open to Me? To and fro
I wander, weary, thro' the driving snow;
But colder still that thou wouldst spurn Me so.
15
"I have a crown more bright than all that be,
I have a kingdom wider than the sea;
But both have I abandoned, seeking thee.
"Poor, weary heart, so worn and sad within!
Oh, open to thy Friend, thy Stay from sin,
20
That I, with all My love, may enter in."
I heard a voice at midnight, and I cried,
"O Lord, I need Thy wounded hands and side—
I need Thy love,—Lord, enter and abide."
poem by Frederick George Scott
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