Psalm 107 last part
Colonies planted; or, Nations blessed and punished.
A Psalm for New England.
When God, provoked with daring crimes,
Scourges the madness of the times,
He turns their fields to barren sand,
And dries the rivers from the land.
His word can raise the springs again,
And make the withered mountains green;
Send showery blessings from the skies,
And harvests in the desert rise.
[Where nothing dwelt but beasts of prey,
Or men as fierce and wild as they,
He bids th' oppressed and poor repair,
And builds them towns and cities there.
They sow the fields, and trees they plant,
Whose yearly fruit supplies their want;
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poem by Isaac Watts
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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,
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poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 44
v.1-8,8,15-26
C. M.
The church's complaint in persecution.
Lord, we have heard thy works of old,
Thy works of power and grace,
When to our ears our fathers told
The wonders of their days.
How thou didst build thy churches here,
And make thy gospel known;
Amongst them did thine arm appear,
Thy light and glory shone.
In God they boasted all the day,
And in a cheerful throng
Did thousands meet to praise and pray,
And grace was all their song.
But now our souls are seized with shame,
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poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 75
The description of Christ the beloved.
SS 5:9-16.
The wond'ring world inquires to know
Why I should love my Jesus so:
What are his charms," say they, "above
The objects of a mortal love?"
Yes! my Beloved, to my sight
Shows a sweet mixture, red and white:
All human beauties, all divine,
In my Beloved meet and shine.
White is his soul, from blemish free;
Red with the blood he shed for me;
The fairest of ten thousand fairs;
A sun amongst ten thousand stars.
[His head the finest gold excels;
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poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 91 part 1
v.1-7
L. M.
Safety in public diseases and dangers.
He that hath made his refuge God
Shall find a most secure abode,
Shall walk all day beneath his shade,
And there at night shall rest his head.
Then will I say, "My God, thy power
Shall be my fortress and my tower;
I, that am formed of feeble dust,
Make thine almighty arm my trust."
Thrice happy man! thy Maker's care
Shall keep thee from the fowler's snare;
Satan, the fowler, who betrays
Unguarded souls a thousand ways.
Just as a hen protects her brood
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poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm XXXIII: Rejoice, Ye Righteous
Rejoice, ye righteous, in the Lord,
This work belongs to you;
Sing of his name, his ways, his word,
How holy, just, and true.
His mercy and his righteousness
Let heav'n and earth proclaim;
His works of nature and of grace
Reveal his wondrous name.
His wisdom and almighty word
The heav'nly arches spread,
And by the Spirit of the Lord
Their shining hosts were made.
He bid the liquid waters flow
To their appointed deep;
The flowing seas their limits know
And their own station keep.
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poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 102 part 1
v.1-13,20,21
C. M.
A prayer of the afflicted.
Hear me, O God, nor hide thy face;
But answer, lest I die;
Hast thou not built a throne of grace
To hear when sinners cry?
My days are wasted like the smoke
Dissolving in the air;
My strength is dried, my heart is broke,
And sinking in despair.
My spirits flag like with'ring grass
Burnt with excessive heat;
In secret groans my minutes pass,
And I forget to eat.
As on some lonely building's top
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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,
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poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm XLVI: God Is the Refuge
God is the refuge of his saints,
When storms of sharp distress invade;
Ere we can offer our complaints,
Behold him present with his aid!
Let mountains from their seats be hurled
Down to the deep, and buried there,
Convulsions shake the solid world,
Our faith shall never yield to fear.
Loud may the troubled ocean roar;
In sacred peace our souls abide;
While every nation, every shore,
Trembles, and dreads the swelling tide.
There is a stream, whose gentle flow
Supplies the city of our God,
Life, love, and joy still gliding through,
And watering our divine abode.
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poem by Isaac Watts
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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.
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poem by Isaac Watts
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