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Psalm 42 Part 1

v.1-5
C. M.
Desertion and hope; or, Complaint of absence from public worship.

With earnest longings of the mind,
My God, to thee I look;
So pants the hunted hart to find
And taste the cooling brook.

When shall I see thy courts of grace,
And meet my God again?
So long an absence from thy face
My heart endures with pain.

Temptations vex my weary soul,
And tears are my repast;
The foe insults without control,
"And where's your God at last?"

'Tis with a mournful pleasure now
I think on ancient days;
Then to thy house did numbers go,
And all our work was praise.

But why, my soul, sunk down so far
Beneath this heavy load?
Why do my thoughts indulge despair,
And sin against my God?

Hope in the Lord, whose mighty hand
Can all thy woes remove,
For I shall yet before him stand,
And sing restoring love.

poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 13

Pleading with God under desertion.

How long, O Lord, shall I complain,
Like one that seeks his God in vain?
Canst thou thy face for ever hide,
And I still pray, and be denied?

Shall I for ever be forgot,
As one whom thou regardest not
Still shall my soul thine absence mourn,
And still despair of thy return?

How long shall my poor troubled breast
Be with these anxious thoughts oppressed?
And Satan, my malicious foe,
Rejoice to see me sunk so low?

Hear, Lord, and grant me quick relief,
Before my death conclude my grief:
If thou withhold thy heav'nly light,
I sleep in everlasting night.

How will the powers of darkness boast,
If but one praying soul be lost!
But I have trusted in thy grace,
And shall again behold thy face.

Whate'er my fears or foes suggest,
Thou art my hope, my joy, my rest;
My heart shall feel thy love, and raise
My cheerful voice to songs of praise.

poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 55

v.1-8,16-18,22
C. M.
Support for the afflicted and tempted soul.

O God, my refuge, hear my cries,
"Behold my flowing tears;
For earth and hell my hurt devise,
And triumph in my fears.

Their rage is leveled at my life,
My soul with guilt they load,
And fill my thoughts with inward strife,
To shake my hope in God.

With inward pain my heart-strings sound,
I groan with ev'ry breath;
Horror and fear beset me round
Amongst the shades of death.

O were I like a feathered dove,
And innocence had wings,
I'd fly, and make a long remove
From all these restless things.

Let me to some wild desert go,
And find a peaceful home;
Where storms of malice never blow,
Temptations never come.

Vain hopes, and vain inventions all
To 'scape the rage of hell!
The mighty God on whom I call,
Can save me here as well.

PAUSE.

By morning light I'll seek his face,
At noon repeat my cry;
The night shall hear me ask his grace,
Nor will he long deny.

God shall preserve my soul from fear,
Or shield me when afraid;
Ten thousand angels must appear,
If he command their aid.

I cast my burdens on the Lord,
The Lord sustains them all;
My courage rests upon his word,
That saints shall never fall.

My highest hopes shall not be vain,
My lips shall spread his praise;
While cruel and deceitful men
Scarce live out half their days.

poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 143

Complaint of heavy afflictions in mind and body.

My righteous Judge, my gracious God,
Hear when I spread my hands abroad,
And cry for succor from thy throne;
O make thy truth and mercy known!

Let judgment not against me pass;
Behold, thy servant pleads thy grace:
Should justice call us to thy bar,
No man alive is guiltless there.

Look down in pity, Lord, and see
The mighty woes that burden me;
Down to the dust my life is brought,
Like one long buried and forgot.

I dwell in darkness and unseen,
My heart is desolate within
My thoughts in musing silence trace
The ancient wonders of thy grace.

Thence I derive a glimpse of hope
To bear my sinking spirits up;
I stretch my hands to God again,
And thirst like parched lands for rain

For thee I thirst, I pray, I mourn:
When will thy smiling face return?
Shall all my joys on earth remove?
And God for ever hide his love?

My God, thy long delay to save
Will sink thy pris'ner to the grave;
My heart grows faint, and dim mine eye;
Make haste to help before I die.

The night is witness to my tears,
Distressing pains, distressing fears;
O might I hear thy morning voice,
How would my wearied powers rejoice!

In thee I trust, to thee I sigh,
And lift my heavy soul on high;
For thee sit waiting all the day,
And wear the tiresome hours away.

Break off my fetters, Lord, and show
Which is the path my feet should go;
If snares and foes beset the road,
I flee to hide me near my God.

Teach me to do thy holy will,
And lead me to thy heav'nly hill;
Let the good Spirit of thy love
Conduct me to thy courts above.

Then shall my soul no more complain,
The tempter then shall rage in vain;
And flesh, that was my foe before,
Shall never vex my spirit more.

poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 27 part 2

v.8,9,13,14
C. M.
Prayer and hope.

Soon as I heard my Father say,
"Ye children, seek my grace,"
My heart replied without delay,
"I'll seek my Father's face."

Let not thy face be hid from me,
Nor frown my soul away;
God of my life, I fly to thee
In a distressing day.

Should friends and kindred near and dear
Leave me to want or die,
My God would make my life his care,
And all my need supply.

My fainting flesh had died with grief
Had not my soul believed,
To see thy grace provide relief;
Nor was my hope deceived.

Wait on the Lord, ye trembling saints,
And keep your courage up;
He'll raise your spirit when it faints,
And far exceed your hope.

poem by Isaac Watts
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Lovest Thou Me?

(John, xxi.16)

Hark my soul! it is the Lord;
'Tis Thy Saviour, hear His word;
Jesus speaks and speaks to thee,
"Say poor sinner, lovst thou me?

"I deliver'd thee when bound,
And when bleeding, heal'd thy wound;
Sought thee wandering, set thee right,
Turn'd thy darkness into light.

"Can a woman's tender care
Cease towards the child she bare?
Yes, she may forgetful be,
Yet will I remember thee.

"Mine is an unchanging love,
Higher than the heights above,
Deeper than the depths beneath,
Free and faithful, strong as death.

"Thou shalt see my glory soon,
When the work of grace is done;
Partner of my throne shalt be;
Say, poor sinner, lovst thou me?"

Lord it is my chief complaint,
That my love is weak and faint;
Yet I love Thee and adore, --
Oh! for grace to love Thee more!

poem by William Cowper
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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 63

Longing after God; or, The love of God better than life.

Great God, indulge my humble claim,
Thou art my hope, my joy, my rest;
The glories that compose thy name
Stand all engaged to make me blest.

Thou great and good, thou just and wise,
Thou art my Father and my God;
And I am thine by sacred ties;
Thy son, thy servant, bought with blood

With heart, and eyes, and lifted hands,
For thee I long, to thee I look,
As travellers in thirsty lands
Pant for the cooling water-brook.

With early feet I love t' appear
Among thy saints, and seek thy face;
Oft have I seen thy glory there,
And felt the power of sovereign grace.

Not fruits nor wines that tempt our taste,
Nor all the joys our senses know,
Could make me so divinely blest,
Or raise my cheerful passions so.

My life itself without thy love
No taste of pleasure could afford;
'Twould but a tiresome burden prove,
If I were banish'd from the Lord.

Amidst the wakeful hours of night,
When busy cares afflict my head,
One thought of thee gives new delight,
And adds refreshment to my bed.

I'll lift my hands, I'll raise my voice,
While I have breath to pray or praise;
This work shall make my heart rejoice,
And spend the remnant of my days.

poem by Isaac Watts
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Lady Surrey's Lament for Her Absent Lord

Good ladies, you that have your pleasure in exile,
Step in your foot, come take a place, and mourn with me a while,
And such as by their lords do set but little price,
Let them sit still: it skills them not what chance come on the dice.
But ye whom Love hath bound by order of desire
To love your lords, whose good deserts none other would require:
Come you yet once again, and set your foot by mine,
Whose woeful plight and sorrows great no tongue may well define.
My love and lord, alas, in whom consists my wealth,
Hath fortune sent to pass the seas in hazard of his health.
That I was wont for to embrace, contented mind's,
Is now amid the foaming floods at pleasure of the winds.
There God him well preserve, and safely me him send,
Without which hope, my life alas were shortly at an end.
Whose absence yet, although my hope doth tell me plain,
With short return he comes anon, yet ceaseth not my pain.
The fearful dreams I have, oft times they grieve me so,
That then I wake and stand in doubt, if they be true, or no.
Sometime the roaring seas, me seems, they grow so high,
That my sweet lord in danger great, alas, doth often lie.
Another time the same doth tell me, he is come;
And playing, where I shall him find with T., his little son.
So forth I go apace to see that liefsome sight,
And with a kiss me thinks I say: "Now welcome home, my knight;
Welcome my sweet, alas, the stay of my welfare;
Thy presence bringeth forth a truce betwixt me and my care."
Then lively doth he look, and salveth me again,
And saith: "My dear, how is it now that you have all this pain?"
Wherewith the heavy cares that heap'd are in my breast,
Break forth, and me dischargeth clean of all my huge unrest.
But when I me awake and find it but a dream,
The anguish of my former woe beginneth more extreme,
And me tormenteth so, that uneath may I find
Some hidden where, to steal the grief of my unquiet mind.
Thus every way you see with absence how I burn;
And for my wound no cure there is but hope of good return;
Save when I feel, by sour how sweet is felt the more,
It doth abate some of my pains that I abode before.
And then unto myself I say: "When that we two shall meet,
But little time shall seem this pain, that joy shall be so sweet."
Ye winds, I you convert in chiefest of your rage,
That you my lord me safely send, my sorrows to assuage;
And that I may not long abide in such excess,
Do your good will to cure a wight that liveth in distress.

poem by Henry Howard
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Astrophel And Stella-Eleventh Song

"Who is it that this dark night
Underneath my window plaineth?"
'It is one who from thy sight
Being, ah! exiled, disdaineth
Every other vulgar light.'

"Why, alas! and are you he?
Be not yet those fancies changed?"
'Dear, when you find change in me,
Though from me you be estranged,
Let my change to ruin be.'

"Well, in absence this will die;
Leave to see, and leave to wonder."
'Absence sure will help, If I
Can learn how myself to sunder
From what in my heart doth lie.'

"But time will these thoughts remove:
Time doth work what no man knoweth."
'Time doth as the subject prove,
With time still the affection groweth
In the faithful turtle dove.'

"What if you new beauties see?
Will not they stir new affection?"
'I will think they pictures be,
Image-like of saint's perfection,
Poorly counterfeiting thee.'

"But your reason's purest light
Bids you leave such minds to nourish."
'Dear, do reason no such spite,—
Never doth thy beauty flourish
More than in my reason's sight.'

"But the wrongs love bears will make
Love at length leave undertaking."
'No, the more fools do it shake
In a ground of so firm making,
Deeper still they drive the stake.'

"Peace! I think that some give ear;
Come no more, lest I get anger."
'Bliss, I will my bliss forbear,
Fearing, sweet, you to endanger;
But my soul shall harbour there.'

Well, begone, begone, I say,
Lest that Argus' eyes perceive you."
'O unjust Fortune's sway,
Which can make me thus to leave you,
And from louts to run away!'

poem by Philip Sidney
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The Building

"Build me a house," said the Master,
"But not on the shifting sand,
Mid the wreck and roar of tempests,
A house that will firmly stand.

"I will bring thee windows of agates,
And gates of carbuncles bright,
And thy fairest courts and portals
Shall be filled with love and light.

"Thou shalt build with fadeless rubies,
All fashioned around the throne,
A house that shall last forever,
With Christ as the cornerstone.

"It shall be a royal mansion,
A fair and beautiful thing,
It will be the presence-chamber
Of thy Saviour, Lord and King.

"Thy house shall he bound with pinions
To mansions of rest above,
But grace shall forge all the fetters
With the links and cords of love.

"Thou shalt he free in this mansion
From sorrow and pain of heart,
For the peace of God shall enter,
And never again depart."

poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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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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Psalm 69 part 2

v.14-21,26,29,32
C. M.
The passion and exaltation of Christ.

Now let our lips with holy fear
And mournful pleasure sing
The suff'rings of our great High Priest,
The sorrows of our King.

He sinks in floods of deep distress;
How high the waters rise!
While to his heav'nly Father's ear
He sends perpetual cries.

"Hear me, O Lord, and save thy Son,
Nor hide thy shining face;
Why should thy fav'rite look like one
Forsaken of thy grace?

"With rage they persecute the man
That groans beneath thy wound,
While for a sacrifice I pour
My life upon the ground.

"They tread my honor to the dust,
And laugh when I complain;
Their sharp insulting slanders add
Fresh anguish to my pain.

"All my reproach is known to thee,
The scandal and the shame
Reproach has broke my bleeding heart,
And lies defiled my name.

"I looked for pity, but in vain;
My kindred are my grief:
I ask my friends for comfort round,
But meet with no relief.

"With vinegar they mock my thirst,
They give me gall for food;
And sporting with my dying groans,
They triumph in my blood.

"Shine into my distressed soul,
Let thy compassions save;
And though my flesh sink down to death,
Redeem it from the grave.

"I shall arise to praise thy name,
Shall reign in worlds unknown;
And thy salvation, O my God,
Shall seat me on thy throne."

poem by Isaac Watts
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Desiring to Be Given up to God

That my heart was right with thee,
And lov'd thee with a perfect love!
O that my Lord would dwell in me,
And never from his seat remove!
Jesus, remove th' impending load,
And set my soul on fire for God!

Thou seest I dwell in awful night
Until thou in my heart appear;
Kindle the flame, O Lord, and light
Thine everlasting candle there:
Thy presence puts the shadows by;
If thou art gone, how dark am I!

Ah! Lord, how should thy servant see,
Unless thou give me seeing eyes?
Well may I fall, if out of thee;
If out of thee, how should I rise?
I wander, Lord, without thy aid,
And lose my way in midnight's shade.

Thy bright, unerring light afford,
A light that gives the sinner hope;
And from the house of bondage, Lord,
O bring the weary captive up,
Thine hand alone can set me free
And reach my pardon out to me.

O let my prayer acceptance find,
And bring the mighty blessing down;
With eye-salve, Lord, anoint the blind,
And seal me thine adopted son:
A fallen, helpless creature take,
And heir of thy salvation make.

poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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To the Temple I Repair

To Thy temple I repair;
Lord, I love to worship there
When within the veil I meet
Christ before the mercy seat.

I through Him am reconciled,
I through Him become Thy child.
Abba, Father, give me grace
In Thy courts to seek Thy face.

While Thy glorious praise is sung,
Touch my lips, unloose my tongue,
That my joyful soul may bless
Christ the Lord, my Righteousness.

While the prayers of saints ascend,
God of Love, to mine attend.
Hear me, for Thy Spirit pleads;
Hear, for Jesus intercedes.

While I hearken to Thy law,
Fill my soul with humble awe
Till Thy Gospel bring to me
Life and immortality.

While Thy ministers proclaim
Peace and pardon in Thy Name,
Through their voice, by faith, may I
Hear Thee speaking from the sky.

From Thy house when I return,
May my heart within me burn,
And at evening let me say,
“I have walked with God today."

poem by James Montgomery
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Psalm 150

Praise the Lord of the morning
When the sun rises from its sleep
Praise the Lord for His excellent greatness
For His beauty makes me weep

Praise the Lord when the darkness falls
And the moon rises high above
Praise the Lord for His majestic glory
And His everlasting love

Praise the Lord in the winter
When the snow falls on the ground
Praise the Lord for His glorious presence
When we stand upon holy ground

Praise the Lord of the summer
When the days are warm and long
Praise the Lord for His magnificent splendor
And the saints shall sing a new song

Praise the Lord of the springtime
When the blossoms on the tree
Praise the Lord for His holiness
And for the Blood that set us free

Praise the Lord of the Autumn
When the leaves fall to the ground
Praise the Lord for His faithfulness
And that His grace abounds

Praise the Lord when your happy
And there's a smile upon your face
Praise the Lord for His mercy
And for His saving grace

Praise the Lord when you're in despair
And your pierced by a fiery dart
Praise the Lord for HIs loving kindness
That restores your broken heart

Praise the Lord with your last breath
As you lie upon your bed
Praise the Lord for His promises
To raise you from the dead

Praise the Lord for all eternity
As you gather around His throne
Praise the Lord for His incredible beauty
As you worship Him alone

Let trumpet, harp and timbrel praise
And dance before the King
Let all with breath praise the Lord
And with their voices sing

Hallelujah to the King of Kings
We worship and bow down
We sing to you forever more
And we will crown Him with many crowns

poem by Frank McEleny
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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 50 part 2

v.10,11,14,15,23
C. M.
Obedience is better than sacrifice.

Thus saith the Lord, "The spacious fields,
And flocks, and herds, are mine;
O'er all the cattle of the hills
I claim a right divine.

"I ask no sheep for sacrifice,
Nor bullocks burnt with fire;
To hope and love, to pray and praise,
Is all that I require.

"Call upon me when trouble's near,
My hand shall set thee free
Then shall thy thankful lips declare
The honor due to me.

"The man that offers humble praise,
He glorifies me best;
And those that tread my holy ways
Shall my salvation taste."

poem by Isaac Watts
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Forever

Give thanks to the Lord, Our God and King
His love endures forever
For He is good, He is above all things
His love endures forever
Sing praise, sing praise
With a mighty hand and outstretched arm
His love endures forever
For the life that's been reborn
His love endures forever
Sing praise, sing praise
Sing praise, sing praise
CHORUS:
Forever God is faithful
Forever God is strong
Forever God is with us
Forever and ever, forever (2X)
From the rising to the setting sun
His love endures forever
By the grace of God we will carry on
His love endures forever
Sing praise, sing praise
Sing praise, sing praise
(CHORUS)
His love endures forever (8X)
Sing praise, sing praise
Sing praise, sing praise
(CHORUS)
Forever you are faithful
Forever you are strong
Forever you are with us
Forever and ever, forever

song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hymn XXV: Stupendous Love of God Most High!

Stupendous love of God most high!
He comes to meet us from the sky
In mildest majesty;
Full of unutterable grace,
He calls the weary burdened race,
"Come all for help to me."

Tired with the greatness of my way,
From him I would no longer stray,
But rest in Jesus have;
Weary of sin, from sin would cease,
Weary of mine own righteousness,
And stoop, myself to save.

Weary of passions unsubdued,
Weary of vows in vain renewed,
Of forms without the power,
Of prayers, and hopes, complaints, and groans,
My fainting soul in silence owns
I can hold out no more.

Beneath this mountain load of grief,
Of guilt and desperate unbelief,
Jesus, thy creature see;
With all my nature's weight oppressed,
I sink, I die for want of rest,
Yet cannot come to thee.

Mine utter helplessness I feel;
But thou, who gav'st the feeble will,
The effectual grace supply;
Be thou my strength, my light, my way,
And bid my soul the call obey,
And to thy bosom fly.

Fulfil thine own intense desire,
And now into my heart inspire
The power of faith and love;
Then, Saviour, then to thee I come,
And find on earth the life, the home,
The rest of saints above.

poem by John Wesley
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Contentment

(Phillipians, iv.11)

Fierce passions discompose the mind,
As tempests vex the sea,
But calm, content and peace we find,
When, Lord, we turn to Thee.

In vain by reason and by rule
We try to bend the will;
For none but in the Saviour's school
Can learn the heavenly skill.

Since at His feet my soul has sate,
His gracious words to hear,
Contented with my present state,
I cast on Him my care.

"Art thou a sinner, soul?" He said,
"Then how canst thou complain?
How light thy troubles here, if weigh'd
With everlasting pain!

"If thou of murmuring wouldst be cured,
Compare thy griefs with mine!
Think what my love for thee endured,
And thou wilt not repine.

"'Tis I appoint thy daily lot,
And I do all things well;
Thou soon shalt leave this wretched spot,
And rise with me to dwell.

"In life my grace shall strength supply,
Proportion'd to thy day;
At death thou still shalt find me nigh,
To wipe thy tears away."

Thus I, who once my wretched days
In vain repinings spent,
Taught in my Saviour's school of grace,
Have learnt to be content.

poem by William Cowper
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