Where the Godhead shines confess'd,
There be solemn praise address'd:
4 Mark the wonders of his hand!
Pow'r, no empire can withstand;
Wisdom, angels' glorious theme;
Goodness, one eternal stream:
5 Awful Being! from thy throne
Send thy promis'd blessings down
Let thy light, thy truth, thy peace,
Bid our raging passions cease:
1 COME, sound his praise abroad,
And hymns of glory sing!
Jehovah is the sov'reign God,
The universal King.
2 He form'd the deeps unknown;
He gave the seas their bound;
The watʼry worlds are all his own,
And all the solid ground.
3 Come, worship at his throne;
Come, bow before the Lord.
We are his works and not our own;
He form'd us by his word.
4 To day attend his voice,
Nor dare provoke his rod;
Come, like the people of his choice,
And own your gracious God!
1 INDULGENT Father! how divine, How bright thy bounties are!
Through nature's ample round they shine Thy goodness to declare.
? But in the nobler work of grace,
What sweeter mercy smiles
In my benign Redeemer's face,
And ev'ry fear beguiles!
8 Such wonders, Lord, while I survey,
To thee my thanks shall rise,
When morning ushers in the day,
Or ev❜ning veils the skies.
4 When glimm'ring life resigns its flame,
Thy praise shall tune my breath.
The sweet remembrance of thy name
Shall gild the shades of death.
5 But, oh! how blest my song shall rise, When freed from feeble clay,
And all thy glories meet mine eyes
In one eternal day.
6 Not seraphs, who resound thy name
Through yon ethereal plains,
Shall glow with a diviner flame,
Or raise sublimer strains.
1 LONG as I live, I'll bless thy name,
God of eternal love!
My work and joy shall be the same,
In the bright world above.
2 Great is the Lord, his pow'r unknown, And let his praise be great:
I'll sing the honours of thy throne,
Thy works of grace repeat.
3 Thy grace shall dwell upon my tongue;
And, while my lips rejoice,
The men that hear my sacred song
Shall join their cheerful voice.
4 Fathers to sons shall teach thy name, And children learn thy ways;
Ages to come thy truth proclaim,
And nations sound thy praise.
5 Thy glorious deeds of ancient date,
Shall through the world be known:
Thine arm of pow'r, thy heav'nly state,
With public splendour shown.
6 The world is manag'd by thy hands,
Thy saints are rul'd by love;
And thine eternal kingdom stands,
Tho' rocks and hills remove.
BLESS the Lord, my soul!
Let all within me join,
And aid my tongue to bless his name,
Whose favours are divine.
2 O bless the Lord, my soul!
Nor let his mercies lie
Forgotten in unthankfulness,
And without praises die.
3 'Tis he forgives thy sins;
'Tis he relieves thy pain;
"Tis he that heals thy sicknesses,
And gives thee strength again.
4 He crowns thy life with love,
When rescu'd from the grave,
He, that redeem'd our souls from death,
Hath boundless pow'r to save.
5 He fills the poor with good;
He gives the suff'rers rest.
The Lord hath justice for the proud,
And mercy for th' oppress'd.
6 His wondrous works and ways
He made by Moses known;
But sent the world his truth and grace
By his beloved Son.
IN glad amazement, Lord, I stand,
Amidst the bounties of thy hand.
How numberless those bounties are!
How rich, how various, and how fair!
2 But O! what poor returns I make!
What lifeless thanks I pay thee back!
Lord! I confess with humble shame,
My off'rings scarce deserve the name.
3 Fain would my lab'ring heart devise
To bring some nobler sacrifice.
It sinks beneath the mighty load:
What shall I render to my God?
To him I consecrate my praise,
And vow the remnant of my days.
Yet, what at best, I can pretend,
Worthy such gifts from such a friend?
In deep abasement, Lord, I see
My emptiness and poverty.
Enrich my soul with grace divine,
And make me worthier to be thine.
6 Give me at length an angel's tongue,
That heav'n may echo with my song.
The theme, too great for time, shall be
The joy of long eternity.
God all, and in all, Psalm lxxiii. 25.
1 MY God, my life, my love,
To thee, to thee, I call,
I cannot live if thou remove,
For thou art all in all.
2 Thy shining grace can cheer
This dungeon where I dwell;
Tis paradise when thou art here,
If thou depart, 'tis hell.
3 To thee, and thee alone,
The angels owe their bliss;
They sit around thy gracious throne,
And dwell where Jesus is.
4 Not all the harps above
Can make a heavenly place,
If God his residence remove,
Or but conceal his face.
5 Nor earth, nor all the sky
Can one delight afford,
No, not a drop of real joy,
Without thy presence, Lord.
6 To thee my spirits fly
With infinite desire,
And yet how far from thee I lie!
Dear Jesus raise me nigher.
God glorious and Sinners saved, Rom. i. 30.
Chap. v. 8, 9. 1 Pet. iii. 22.
FATHER, how wide thy glories shine!
How high thy wonders rise!
Known through the earth by thousand signs,
By thousands through the skies.
2 Those mighty orbs proclaim thy power,
Their motions speak thy skill,
And on the wings of every hour
We read thy patience still.
$ But when we view thy strange design
To save rebellious worms,
Our souls are fill'd with awe divine,
To see what God performs.
4 When sinners break the Father's law,
The dying Son atones;
Oh the dear mysteries of his cross!
The triumph of his groans!
|