3 Oh! may the righteous, when I stray,
Smite and reprove my wandering way!
Their gentle words, like ointment shed,
Shall never bruise but cheer my head.
4 When I behold them pressed with grief,
I'll cry to heaven for their relief;
And by my warm petitions prove
How much I prize their faithful love.
GOD THE HOPE OF THE HELPLESS.
1 TO God I made my sorrows known,
From God I sought relief;
In long complaints before His throne
I poured out all my grief.
2 My soul was overwhelmed with woes,
My heart began to break:
My God, who all my burdens knows,
Knows every way I take.
3 On every side I cast mine eye,
And found my helpers gone;
While friends and strangers passed me by,
Neglected or unknown.
4 Then did I raise a louder cry,
And called Thy mercy near;
Thou art my portion when I die:
Be Thou my refuge here.
5 Lord, I am brought exceeding low;
Now let Thine ear attend,
And make my foes, who vex me, know,
I've an almighty Friend.
6 From my sad prison set me free;
Then shall I praise Thy name:
And holy men shall join with me,
Thy kindness to proclaim.
MOURNING UNDER AFFLICTIONS.
1 MY righteous Judge, my gracious God!
Hear, when I spread my hands abroad,
And cry for succour from Thy throne:
Oh! make Thy truth and mercy known!
2 Let judgment not against me pass;
Behold Thy servant pleads Thy grace:
Should justice call us to Thy bar,
No living man is guiltless there.
3 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.
4 I dwell in darkness and unseen,
My heart is desolate within;
My thoughts in musing silence trace
The ancient wonders of Thy grace.
5 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.
6 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?
7 My God, Thy long delay to save,
Will sink Thy prisoner to the grave;
My heart grows faint, and dim mine eye;
Make haste to help before I die.
8 The night is witness to my tears,
Distressing pains, distressing fears:
Oh! might I hear Thy morning voice,
How would my wearied powers rejoice!
9 In Thee I trust, to Thee I sing,
And raise my grieved soul on high;
For Thee sit waiting all the day,
And wear the tiresome hours away.
10 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.
11 Teach me to do Thy holy will,
And lead me to Thy heavenly hill;
Let the good Spirit of Thy love
Conduct me to Thy courts above.
12 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.
VICTORY IN THE SPIRITUAL WARFARE.
1 FOR ever blessed be the Lord,
My Saviour and my shield;
He sends His Spirit with His word,
To arm me for the field.
2 When sin and hell their force unite,
He makes my soul His care;
Instructs me to the heavenly fight,
And guards me through the war.
3 A friend and helper so divine,
Does my weak courage raise;
He makes the glorious victory mine;
And His shall be the praise.
144-PART II. C. M.
THE VANITY OF MAN.
1 LORD, what is man, poor feeble man,
Born of the earth at first!
His life a shadow, light and vain,
Still hastening to the dust.
2 Oh! what is feeble dying man,
Or any of his race,
That God should make it His concern
To visit him with grace!
3 That God, who darts His lightning down,
Who shakes the worlds above;
While mountains tremble at His frown:
How wondrous is His love!
144-PART III. L. M.
THE HAPPY NATION.
1 HAPPY the city, where their sons
Like pillars round a palace set,
And daughters, bright as polished stones,
Give strength and beauty to the state.
2 Happy the country, where the sheep,
Cattle, and corn, have large increase;
Where men securely work, or sleep,
Nor sons of plunder break their peace.
3 Happy the nation thus endowed:
But more divinely blessed are those,
On whom the all sufficient God,
Himself with all His grace bestows.
1 MY God, my King, Thy various praise
Shall fill the remnant of my days;
Thy grace employ my humble tongue,
Till death and glory raise the song.
2 The wings of every hour shall bear
Some thankful tribute to Thine ear;
And every setting sun shall see
New works of duty done for Thee.
3 Thy truth and justice I'll proclaim;
Thy bounty flows an endless stream;
Thy mercy swift, Thine anger slow,
But dreadful to the subborn foe.
4 Thy works with sovereign glory shine,
And speak. Thy majesty divine:
Let Zion in her courts proclaim
The sound and honour of Thy name.
5 Let distant times and nations raise
The long succession of Thy praise;
And unborn ages make my song
The joy and labour of their tongue.
6 But who can speak Thy wondrous deeds?
Thy greatness all our thoughts exceeds:
Vast and unsearchable Thy ways;
Vast and immortal be Thy praise.
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