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3 Thus thy care, for all providing,
Warm'd thy faithful prophet's tongue;
Who, the lot of all deciding,
To thy chosen Israel sung:
When thy harvest yields thee pleasure,
Thou the golden sheaf shalt bind;
To the poor belongs the treasures
Of the scatter'd ears behind.
These thy God ordains to bless,
The widow and the fatherless.
When thine olive plants increasing,
Pour their plenty o'er thy plain,
Grateful, thou shalt take the blessing,
But not search the bough again
Chorus. These, &c.
When thy favour'd vintage flowing,
Gladdens thine autumnal scene,
Own the bounteous hand bestowing,
But thy vines the poor shall glean.
Chorus. These, &c.
7 Still we read thy word declaring Mercy, Lord, thine own decree; Mercy, every sorrow sharing,
Warms the heart resembling thee.
8 Still the orphan and the stranger,
Still the widow owns thy care;
Screen'd by thee in every danger,
Heard by thee in every prayer.
TO BE USED AT SEA.
OD of the seas, thine awful voice
Bids all the rolling waves rejoice;
And one soft word of thy command
Can sink them silent on the sand.
2 The smallest fish that swims the seas,
Sportful, to thee a tribute pays;
And largest monsters of the deep,
At thy command, or rage or sleep.
3 Thus is thy glorious power ador'd
Among the watery nations, Lord:
Yet men, who trace the dangerous waves,
Forget the mighty God who saves.
"Save Lord! or we perish." ST. MATTHEW viii. 25.
HEN through the torn sail the wild tempest is
When o'er the dark wave the red lightning is gleaming,
Nor hope lends a ray the poor seaman to cherish,
We fly to our Maker: "Save, Lord, or we perish."
2 O Jesus, once rock'd on the breast of the billow,
Aroused, by the shriek of despair, from thy pillow,
Now seated in glory, the mariner cherish,
Who cries in his anguish, "Save, Lord, or we perish."
3 And O! when the whirlwind of passion is raging,
When sin in our hearts its wild warfare is waging,
Then send down thy Spirit thy ransom'd to cherish,
Rebuke the destroyer; " Save, Lord, or we perish."
Which may be used at Sea or on Land.
1 ORD, for the just thou dost provide, Thou art their sure defence;
Eternal Wisdom is their guide,
Their help, Omnipotence.
2 Though they through foreign lands should roam, And breathe the tainted air
In burning climates, far from home,
Yet thou, their God, art there.
3 Thy goodness sweetens every soil,
Makes every country please:
Thou on the snowy hills dost smile,
And smooth'st the rugged seas.
4 When waves on waves, to heaven uprear'd,
Defied the pilot's art;
When terror in each face appear'd,
And sorrow in each heart;
5 To thee I raised my humble prayer, To snatch me from the grave:
I found thine ear not slow to hear,
Nor short thine arm to save.
6 Thou gav'st the word, the winds did cease,
The storms obey'd thy will,
The raging sea was hush'd in peace,
And every wave was still.
7 For this, my life, in every state,
A life of praise shall be;
And death, when death shall be my fate,
Shall join my soul to thee.
FOR THE SICK.
WHEN dangers, woes, or death are nigh,
Past teach me where to fly: Thine arm, Almighty God, can aid, When sickness grieves, and pains invade. 2 To all the various helps of art
Kindly thy healing power impart ;
Bethesda's bath refused to save,
Unless an angel bless'd the wave.
3 All med'cines act by thy decree,
Receive commission all from thee;
And not a plant which spreads the plains,
But teems with health, when heaven ordains.
4 Clay and Siloam's pool, we find,
At heaven's command restored the blind;
And Jordan's waters hence were seen
To wash a Syrian leper clean.
5 But grant me nobler favours still,
Grant me to know and do thy will;
Purge my foul soul from every stain,
And save me from eternal pain.
6 Can such a wretch for pardon sue?
My crimes, my crimes arise in view,
Arrest my trembling tongue in prayer,
And pour the horrors of despair.
7 But thou, regard my contrite sighs,
My tortured breast, my streaming eyes;
To me thy boundless love extend,
My God, my Father, and my Friend.
8 These lovely names I ne'er could plead,
Had not thy Son vouchsafed to bleed;
His blood procures our fallen race
Admittance to the throne of grace.
9 When sin has shot its poison'd dart,
And conscious guilt corrodes the heart,
His blood is all-sufficient found
To draw the shaft and heal the wound. 10 What arrows pierce so deep as sin?
What venom gives such pain within?
Thou great Physician of the soul,
Rebuke my pangs, and make me whole.
11 O, if I trust thy sovereign skill,
And bow submissive to thy will,
Sickness and death shall both agree
To bring me, Lord, at last to thee.
On Recovery from Sickness.
HEN we are raised from deep distress,
Our God deserves our song;
We take the pattern of our praise
From Hezekiah's tongue.
2 The gates of the devouring grave
Are open'd wide in vain,
If he that holds the keys of death
Command them fast again.
3 When he but speaks the healing word,
Then no disease withstands;
Fevers and plagues obey the Lord,
And fly, as he commands.
4 If half the strings of life should break,
He can our frame restore,
And cast our sins behind his back,
And they are found no more.
5 To him I cried, "Thy servant save,
Thou ever good and just;
Thy power can rescue from the grave,
Thy pow'r is all my trust!"
6 He heard, and saved my soul from death,
And dried my falling tears;
Now to his praise I'll spend my breath,
Through my remaining years.
On the same.
Y God, since thou hast rais'd me up,
Thee I'll extol with thankful voice;
Restored by thine almighty power,
With fear before thee I'll rejoice.
2 With troubles worn, with pain oppresst, To thee I cried, and thou didst save; Thou didst support my sinking hopes,
My life didst rescue from the grave. 3 Wherefore, ye saints, rejoice with me, With me sing praises to the Lord; Call all his goodness to your mind,
And all his faithfulness record.
4 His anger is but short: his love,
Which is our life, hath certain stay;
Grief may continue for a night,
But joy returns with rising day.
5 Then, what I vow'd in my distress,
In happier hours I now will give,
And strive that in my grateful verse,
His praises may for ever live.
6 To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
The blest and undivided Three;
The One sole giver of all life,
Glory and praise for ever be. ·
EAR what the voice from heaven declares
To those in Christ who die :
Released from all their earthly cares,
They'll reign with him on high.
2 Then why lament departed friends,
Or shake at death's alarms?
Death's but the servant Jesus sends
To call us to his arms.
3 If sin be pardon'd, we're secure,
Death hath no sting beside;
The law gave sin its strength and power;
But Christ, our ransom, died!