Psalm 37 part 1
v.1-15
C. M.
The cure of envy, fretfulness, and unbelief.
Why should I vex my soul, and fret
To see the wicked rise?
Or envy sinners waxing great
By violence and lies?
As flowery grass, cut down at noon,
Before the ev'ning fades,
So shall their glories vanish soon
In everlasting shades.
Then let me make the Lord my trust,
And practise all that's good;
So shall I dwell among the just,
And he'll provide me food.
I to my God my ways commit,
And cheerful wait his will;
Thy hand, which guides my doubtful feet,
Shall my desires fulfil.
Mine innocence shalt thou display,
And make thy judgments known,
Fair as the light of dawning day,
And glorious as the noon.
The meek at last the earth possess,
And are the heirs of heav'n;
True riches, with abundant peace,
To humble souls are giv'n.
PAUSE.
Rest in the Lord, and keep his way,
Nor let your anger rise,
Though Providence should long delay
To punish haughty vice.
Let sinners join to break your peace,
And plot, and rage, and foam;
The Lord derides them, for he sees
Their day of vengeance come.
They have drawn out the threat'ning sword,
Have bent the murd'rous bow,
To slay the men that fear the Lord,
And bring the righteous low.
My God shall break their bows, and burn
Their persecuting darts,
Shall their own swords against them turn,
And pain surprise their hearts.
poem by Isaac Watts
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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 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
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Psalm 25 part 1
v.1-11
S. M.
Waiting for pardon and direction.
I Lift my soul to God,
My trust is in his name:
Let not my foes that seek my blood
Still triumph in my shame.
Sin, and the powers of hell,
Persuade me to despair:
Lord, make me know thy cov'nant well,
That I may 'scape the snare.
From the first dawning light
Till the dark ev'ning rise,
For thy salvation, Lord, I wait
With ever-longing eyes.
Remember all thy grace,
And lead me in thy truth;
Forgive the sins of riper days,
And follies of my youth.
The Lord is just and kind,
The meek shall learn his ways,
And every humble sinner find
The methods of his grace.
For his own goodness' sake
He saves my soul from shame:
He pardons, though my guilt be great,
Through my Redeemer's name.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 5
For the Lord's Day Morning.
Lord, in the morning thou shalt hear
My voice ascending high;
To thee will I direct my prayer,
To thee lift up mine eye;
Up to the hills where Christ is gone
To plead for all his saints,
Presenting at his Father's throne
Our songs and our complaints.
Thou art a God, before whose sight
The wicked shall not stand;
Sinners shall ne'er be thy delight,
Nor dwell at thy right hand.
But to thy house will I resort,
To taste thy mercies there;
I will frequent thine holy court,
And worship in thy fear.
O may thy Spirit guide my feet
In ways of righteousness!
Make every path of duty straight,
And plain before my face.
PAUSE.
My watchful enemies combine
To tempt my feet astray;
They flatter, with a base design
To make my soul their prey.
Lord, crush the serpent in the dust,
And all his plots destroy;
While those that in thy mercy trust,
For ever shout for joy.
The men that love and fear thy name
Shall see their hopes fulfilled;
The mighty God will compass them
With favor as a shield.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 139 part 1
The all-seeing God.
Lord, thou hast searched and seen me through,
Thine eye commands with piercing view
My rising and my resting hours,
My heart and flesh with all their powers.
My thoughts, before they are my own,
Are to my God distinctly known;
He knows the words I mean to speak
Ere from my op'ning lips they break.
Within thy circling power I stand;
On every side I find thy hand;
Awake, asleep, at home, abroad,
I am surrounded still with God.
Amazing knowledge, vast and great!
What large extent! what lofty height!
My soul, with all the powers I boast,
Is in the boundless prospect lost.
O may these thoughts possess my breast,
Where'er I rove, where'er I rest!
Nor let my weaker passions dare
Consent to sin, for God is there.
PAUSE I.
Could I so false, so faithless prove,
To quit thy service and thy love,
Where, Lord, could I thy presence shun.
Or from thy dreadful glory run?
If up to heav'n I take my flight,
'Tis there thou dwell'st enthroned in light
Or dive to hell, there vengeance reigns,
And Satan groans beneath thy chains.
If, mounted on a morning ray,
I fly beyond the western sea,
Thy swifter hand would first arrive,
And there arrest thy fugitive.
Or should I try to shun thy sight
Beneath the spreading veil of night,
One glance of thine, one piercing ray,
Would kindle darkness into day.
O may these thoughts possess my breast,
Where'er I rove, where'er I rest!
Nor let my weaker passions dare
Consent to sin, for God is there.
PAUSE II.
The veil of night is no disguise,
No screen from thy all-searching eyes;
Thy hand can seize thy foes as soon
Through midnight shades as blazing noon.
Midnight and noon in this agree,
Great God, they're both alike to thee;
Not death can hide what God will spy,
And hell lies naked to his eye.
O may these thoughts possess my breast,
Where'er I rove, where'er I rest!
Nor let my weaker passions dare
Consent to sin, for God is there.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 37 part 3
v.23-87
C. M.
The way and end of the righteous and the wicked.
My God, the steps of pious men
Are ordered by thy will;
Though they should fall, they rise again,
Thy hand supports them still.
The Lord delights to see their ways,
Their virtue he approves;
He'll ne'er deprive them of his grace,
Nor leave the men he loves.
The heav'nly heritage is theirs,
Their portion and their home;
He feeds them now, and makes them heirs
Of blessings long to come.
Wait on the Lord, ye sons of men,
Nor fear when tyrants frown;
Ye shall confess their pride was vain,
When justice casts them down.
PAUSE.
The haughty sinner have I seen,
Nor fearing man nor God,
Like a tall bay-tree, fair and green,
Spreading his arms abroad.
And lo! he vanished from the ground,
Destroyed by hands unseen;
Nor root, nor branch, nor leaf was found
Where all that pride had been.
But mark the man of righteousness,
His several steps attend;
True pleasure runs through all his ways,
And peaceful is his end.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 25 part 3
v.15-22
S. M.
Distress of soul; or, Backsliding and desertion.
Mine eyes and my desire
Are ever to the Lord;
I love to plead his promises,
And rest upon his word.
Turn, turn thee to my soul,
Bring thy salvation near;
When will thy hand release my feet
Out of the deadly snare?
When shall the sovereign grace
Of my forgiving God
Restore me from those dangerous ways
My wand'ring feet have trod?
The tumult of my thoughts
Doth but enlarge my woe;
My spirit languishes, my heart
Is desolate and low.
With ev'ry morning light
My sorrow new begins;
Look on my anguish and my pain,
And pardon all my sins.
PAUSE.
Behold the hosts of hell,
How cruel is their hate!
Against my life they rise, and join
Their fury with deceit.
O keep my soul from death,
Nor put my hope to shame,
For I have placed my only trust
In my Redeemer's name.
With humble faith I wait
To see thy face again:
Of Isr'el it shall ne'er be said,
He sought the Lord in vain.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 66 part 1
Governing power and goodness; or, Our graces tried by afflictions.
Sing, all ye nations, to the Lord,
Sing with a joyful noise;
With melody of sound record
His honors and your joys.
Say to the Power that shakes the sky,
"How terrible art thou!
Sinners before thy presence fly,
Or at thy feet they bow."
[Come, see the wonders of our God,
How glorious are his ways!
In Moses' hand he puts his rod,
And cleaves the frighted seas.
He made the ebbing channel dry,
While Isr'el passed the flood
There did the church begin their joy,
And triumph in their God.]
He rules by his resistless might:
Will rebel mortals dare
Provoke th' Eternal to the fight,
And tempt that dreadful war?
O bless our God, and never cease;
Ye saints, fulfil his praise;
He keeps our life, maintains our peace,
And guides our doubtful ways.
Lord, thou hast proved our suff'ring souls,
To make our graces shine;
So silver bears the burning coals,
The metal to refine.
Through wat'ry deeps, and fiery ways,
We march at thy command;
Led to possess the promised place
By thine unerring hand.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 37
The righteous man has little
And the wicked they are rich
But the Lord upholds His children
And the blind fall in a ditch
It seems that many prosper
And the righteous go unseen
But the Lord He sees in secret
And our hearts He washes clean
The Lord upholds the righteous
The wicked turn night to day
Their time is at an end
Like smoke, they shall blow away
The righteous they show mercy
And every one of their steps are planned
And though they fall, yet not forever
He upholds them with His hand
I once was young but now am old
Yet I have never begged for bread
He is faithful now and evermore
The Lord of the living and dead
Now if you wait upon the Lord
You shall inherit the land
You shall walk in peace and loving joy
And in His presence you shall stand
poem by Frank McEleny
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Psalm 119 part 3
Professions of sincerity, repentance, and obedience.
ver. 57,60
Thou art my portion, O my God;
Soon as I know thy way,
My heart makes haste t' obey thy word,
And suffers no delay.
ver. 30,14
I choose the path of heav'nly truth,
And glory in my choice;
Not all the riches of the earth
Could make me so rejoice.
The testimonies of thy grace
I set before my eyes;
Thence I derive my daily strength,
And there my comfort lies.
ver. 59
If once I wander from thy path,
I think upon my ways,
Then turn my feet to thy commands,
And trust thy pard'ning grace.
ver. 94,114
Now I am thine, for ever thine,
O save thy servant, Lord;
Thou art my shield, my hiding-place;
My hope is in thy word.
ver. 112
Thou hast inclined this heart of mine
Thy statutes to fulfil;
And thus, till mortal life shall end,
Would I perform thy will.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Cain And Abel
When Adam fell he quickly lost
God's image, which he once possessed:
See All our nature since could boast
In Cain, his first-born Son, expressed!
The sacrifice the Lord ordained
In type of the Redeemer's blood,
Self-righteous reas'ning Cain disdained,
And thought his own first-fruits as good.
Yet rage and envy filled his mind,
When, with a fallen, downcast look,
He saw his brother favor find,
Who God's appointed method took.
By Cain's own hand, good Abel died,
Because the Lord approved his faith;
And, when his blood for vengeance cried,
He vainly thought to hide his death.
Such was the wicked murd'rer Cain,
And such by nature still are we,
Until by grace we're born again,
Malicious, blind and proud, as he.
Like him the way of grace we slight,
And in our own devices trust;
Call evil good, and darkness light,
And hate and persecute the just.
The saints, in every age and place,
Have found this history fulfilled;
The numbers all our thoughts surpass
Of Abels, whom the Cains have killed!
Thus Jesus fell - but O! his blood
Far better things than Abel's cries:
Obtains his murd'rers peace with God,
And gains them mansions in the skies.
poem by John Newton
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51 Psalm
Look mercyfully down O Lord
& wash us from our sinn
Cleanse us from wicked deeds without
from wicked thoughts within
Lord I Confess my many sinns
that I against thee doe
Each minute they're before my face
& wound my soul anew
So Great my god my ills have been
Gainst thee & onely thee
Thy Justice tho' I were Condemnd
would good & righteous bee
For att my birth I wickedness
Did with my breath suck in
But thou shalt teach me in thy ways
& keep me pure from sinn
Thoult me with hyssopp purge who am
all over soil's & stain's
Thou with thy sanctifiyng grace
shalt wash & make me clean
Thoult bless my days with peace no sound
But Joy shall reach mine ear
That where thy Justice wounded Lord
There Gladness may appear
Blott from thy thoughts past faults & from
The present turn thy face
O make my spirit right & good
Confirm my heart with grace
thy Presence & thy mercy lett
Me ever Ld possess
Me with the comfort of thy help
& with thy love still bless
Then shall the wicked know thy pow'r
& turn ym from theyr wayes
Deliver me from blood my god
& I will sing thy praise.
Unseal my lips & to ye Bad
I will thy mercy shew
For since thou lovest not sacrifice
Tis all that I can doo
A heart that is with sorrow pierct
My God thou wilt receive
this is ye sweetest offering
that we to thee can give
On Sion Graciously look down
Preserve us still we pray
& hearts upon thine altars Lord
Instead of beasts we'el Lay.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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Psalm 119 part 16
Prayer for quickening grace.
ver. 25,37
My soul lies cleaving to the dust;
Lord, give me life divine;
From vain desires and every lust
Turn off these eyes of mine.
I need the influence of thy grace
To speed me in thy way,
Lest I should loiter in my race,
Or turn my feet astray.
ver. 107
When sore afflictions press me down,
I need thy quick'ning powers;
Thy word that I have rested on
Shall help my heaviest hours.
ver. 156,40
Are not thy mercies sovereign still,
And thou a faithful God?
Wilt thou not grant me warmer zeal
To run the heav'nly road?
ver. 159,40
Does not my heart thy precepts love,
And long to see thy face?
And yet how slow my spirits move
Without enliv'ning grace!
ver. 93
Then shall I love thy gospel more,
And ne'er forget thy word,
When I have felt its quick'ning power,
To draw me near the Lord.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 119 part 13
Holy fear, and tenderness of conscience.
ver. 10
With my whole heart I've sought thy face:
O let me never stray
From thy commands, O God of grace,
Nor tread the sinner's way.
ver. 11
Thy word I've hid within my heart
To keep my conscience clean,
And be an everlasting guard
From every rising sin.
ver. 63,53,158
I'm a companion of the saints
Who fear and love the Lord;
My sorrows rise, my nature faints,
When men transgress thy word.
ver. 161,163
While sinners do thy gospel wrong
My spirit stands in awe;
My soul abhors a lying tongue,
But loves thy righteous law.
ver. 161,120
My heart with sacred rev'rence hears
The threat'nings of thy word;
My flesh with holy trembling fears
The judgments of the Lord.
ver. 166,174
My God, I long, I hope, I wait,
For thy salvation still;
While thy whole law is my delight,
And I obey thy will.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Brig Peace Apone the earth
Bring peace apone the earth lord and bring joy to are souls, lift are hearts into the heavens and let all are sorrows go.Bring peace apone the earth lord and let your stories unfold, your peace and joy will last for ever this is the Jesus that we know.Hear are crys as we pray lord and wipe the tears from are eyes fill are hearts full of joy lord and let your promis come alive.Bring peace apone the earth lord and let your children be filled, your peace and joy will surrond us and yor truth shall be reveald.
poem by Dennis Morris
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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
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Psalm 147 part 1
The Divine nature, providence, and grace.
Praise ye the Lord; 'tis good to raise
Our hearts and voices in his praise;
His nature and his works invite
To make this duty our delight.
The Lord builds up Jerusalem,
And gathers nations to his name;
His mercy melts the stubborn soul,
And makes the broken spirit whole.
He formed the stars, those heav'nly flames;
He counts their numbers, calls their names;
His wisdom's vast, and knows no bound,
A deep where all our thoughts are drowned.
Great is our Lord, and great his might;
And all his glories infinite:
He crowns the meek, rewards the just,
And treads the wicked to the dust.
PAUSE.
Sing to the Lord, exalt him high,
Who spreads his clouds all round the sky;
There he prepares the fruitful rain,
Nor lets the drops descend in vain.
He makes the grass the hills adorn,
And clothes the smiling fields with corn;
The beasts with food his hands supply,
And the young ravens when they cry.
What is the creature's skill or force,
The sprightly man, the warlike horse,
The nimble wit, the active limb?
All are too mean delights for him.
But saints are lovely in his sight,
He views his children with delight;
He sees their hope, he knows their fear,
And looks, and loves his image there.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm LXXIII: Now I'm Convinced the Lord Is Kind
Now I 'm convinced the Lord is kind
To men of heart sincere;
Yet once my foolish thoughts repined,
And bordered on despair.
I grieved to see the wicked thrive,
And spoke with angry breath,
"How pleasant and profane they live !
How peaceful is their death !
"With well-fed flesh and haughty eyes,
They lay their fears to sleep;
Against the heav'ns their slanders rise,
While saints in silence weep.
"In vain I lift my hands to pray,
And cleanse my heart in vain;
For I am chastened all the day,
The night renews my pain."
Yet while my tongue indulged complaints,
I felt my heart reprove,
"Sure I shall thus offend thy saints,
And grieve the men I love."
But still I found my doubts too hard,
The conflict too severe,
Till I retired to search thy word,
And learn thy secrets there.
There, as in some prophetic glass,
I saw the sinner's feet
High mounted on a slipp'ry place,
Beside a fiery pit.
I heard the wretch profanely boast,
Till at thy frown he fell;
His honors in a dream were lost,
And he awakes in hell.
Lord, what an envious fool I was!
How like a thoughtless beast
Thus to suspect thy promised grace,
And think the wicked blessed.
Yet I was kept from full despair,
Upheld by power unknown;
That blessed hand that broke the snare
Shall guide me to thy throne.
God, my supporter and my hope,
My help for ever near,
Thine arm of mercy held me up,
When sinking in despair.
Thy counsels, Lord, shall guide my feet
Through this dark wilderness;
Thine hand conduct me near thy seat,
To dwell before thy face.
Were I in heav'n without my God,
'twould be no joy to me;
And whilst this earth is my abode,
I long for none but thee.
What if the springs of life were broke,
And flesh and heart should faint?
God is my soul's eternal rock,
The strength of ev'ry saint.
Behold, the sinners that remove
Far from thy presence die;
Not all the idol gods they love
Can save them when they cry.
But to draw near to thee, my God,
Shall be my sweet employ;
My tongue shall sound thy works abroad,
And tell the world my joy.
Lord, what a thoughtless wretch was I,
To mourn, and murmur, and repine,
To see the wicked placed on high,
In pride and robes of' honour shine!
But O their end, their dreadful end!
Thy sanctuary taught me so;
On slipp'ry rocks I see them stand,
And fiery billows roll below.
Now let them boast how tall they rise,
I'll never envy them again;
There they may stand with haughty eyes,
Till they plunge deep in endless pain.
Their fancied joys, how fast they flee!
Just like a dream when man awakes;
Their songs of softest harmony
Are but a preface to their plagues.
Now I esteem their mirth and wine
Too dear to purchase with my blood;
Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine,
My life, my portion, and my God.
Sure there's a righteous God,
Nor is religion vain;
Though men of vice may boast aloud,
And men of grace complain.
I saw the wicked rise,
And felt my heart repine,
While haughty fools with scornful eyes
In robes of' honor shine.
Pampered with wanton ease,
Their flesh looks full and fair;
Their wealth rolls in like flowing seas,
And grows without their care.
Free from the plagues and pains
That pious souls endure;
Through all their life oppression reigns,
And racks the humble poor.
Their impious tongues blaspheme
The everlasting God;
Their malice blasts the good man's name,
And spreads their lies abroad.
But I with flowing tears
Indulged my doubts to rise;
"Is there a God that sees or hears
The things below the skies?"
The tumults of my thought
Held me in hard suspense,
Till to thy house my feet were brought,
To learn thy justice thence.
Thy word with light and power
Did my mistake amend;
I viewed the sinners' life before,
But here I learned their end.
On what a slippery steep
The thoughtless wretches go;
And O that dreadful fiery deep
That waits their fall below!
Lord, at thy feet I bow,
My thoughts no more repine;
I call my God my portion now,
And all my powers are thine.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 7
God's care of his people.
My trust is in my heav'nly Friend,
My hope in thee, my God;
Rise, and my helpless life defend
From those that seek my blood.
With insolence and fury they
My soul in pieces tear,
As hungry lions rend the prey,
When no deliverer's near.
If I had e'er provoked them first,
Or once abused my foe,
Then let him tread my life to dust,
And lay mine honor low.
If there be malice found in me,
I know thy piercing eyes;
I should not dare appeal to thee,
Nor ask my God to rise.
Arise, my God, lift up thy hand,
Their pride and power control;
Awake to judgment, and command
Deliverance for my soul.
PAUSE.
[Let sinners, and their wicked rage,
Be humbled to the dust;
Shall not the God of truth engage
To vindicate the just?
He knows the heart, he tries the reins,
He will defend th' upright
His sharpest arrows he ordains
Against the sons of spite.
For me their malice digged a pit,
But there themselves are cast;
My God makes all their mischief light
On their own heads at last.]
That cruel, persecuting race
Must feel his dreadful sword:
Awake, my soul, and praise the grace
And justice of the Lord.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm XXXVI: High in the Heav'ns
High in the heav'ns, eternal God,
Thy goodness in full glory shines;
Thy truth shall break through ev'ry cloud
That veils and darkens thy designs.
For ever firm thy justice stands,
As mountains their foundations keep;
Wise are the wonders of thy hands;
Thy judgments are a mighty deep.
Thy providence is kind and large,
Both man and beast thy bounty share;
The whole creation is thy charge,
But saints are thy peculiar care.
My God! how excellent thy grace,
Whence all our hope and comfort springs !
The sons of Adam in distress
Fly to the shadow of thy wings.
From the provisions of thy house
We shall be fed with sweet repast;
There mercy like a river flows,
And brings salvation to our taste.
Life, like a fountain rich and free,
Springs from the presence of the Lord;
And in thy light our souls shall see
The glories promised in thy word.
While men grow bold in wicked ways,
And yet a God they own,
My heart within me often says,
"Their thoughts believe there's none."
Their thoughts and ways at once declare,
Whate'er their lips profess,
God hath no wrath for them to fear,
Nor will they seek his grace.
What strange self-flatt'ry blinds their eyes!
But there's a hast'ning hour,
When they shall see with sore surprise
The terrors of thy power.
Thy justice shall maintain its throne,
Though mountains melt away;
Thy judgments are a world unknown,
A deep, unfathomed sea.
Above the heav'ns created rounds,
Thy mercies, Lord, extend;
Thy truth outlives the narrow bounds
Where time and nature end.
Safety to man thy goodness brings,
Nor overlooks the beast;
Beneath the shadow of thy wings
Thy children choose to rest.
[From thee, when creature-streams run low,
And mortal comforts die,
Perpetual springs of life shall flow,
And raise our pleasures high.
Though all created light decay,
And death close up our eyes,
Thy presence makes eternal day,
Where clouds can never rise.]
When man grows bold in sin,
My heart within me cries,
"He hath no faith of God within,
Nor fear before his eyes."
[He walks awhile concealed
In a self-flatt'ring dream,
Till his dark crimes at once revealed
Expose his hateful name.]
His heart is false and foul,
His words are smooth and fair;
Wisdom is banished from his soul,
And leaves no goodness there.
He plots upon his bed
New mischiefs to fulfil;
He sets his heart, and hand, and head,
To practice all that's ill.
But there's a dreadful God,
Though men renounce his fear;
His justice, hid behind the cloud,
Shall one great day appear.
His truth transcends the sky,
In heav'n his mercies dwell;
Deep as the sea his judgments lie,
His anger burns to hell.
How excellent his love,
Whence all our safety springs !
O never let my soul remove
From underneath his wings.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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