PSALM 114. L. M.
Miracles attending Israel's journey.
HEN Israel, freed from Pharaoh's hand,
Left the proud tyrant and his land;
The tribes with cheerful homage own
Their King, and Judah was his throne.
2 Across the deep their journey lay;
The deep divides to make them way;
Jordan beheld their march, and fled
With backward current to his head.
3 The mountains shook, like frighted sheep;
Like lambs, the little hillocks leap;
Nor Sinai, or her base, could stand,
Conscious of sov'reign pow'r at hand.
4 What pow'r could make the deep divide?
Or Jordan, backward roll his tide?
Why did ye leap, ye little hills?
And whence the fright that Sinai feels?
5 Let ev'ry mountain, ev'ry flood,
Retire and know th' approaching God;
The king of Israel, see him here;
Tremble thou earth, adore and fear.
6 He thunders, and all nature mourns;
The rocks to standing pools he turns;
Flints spring with fountains at his word,
And fires and seas confess the Lord.
The true God is our refuge; or, Idolatry reproved.
TOT to ourselves, who are but dust,
Not to ourselves is glory due;
'Tis thine, great God, the only just,
The only gracious, wise, and true.
2 Shine forth in all thy dreadful name: Why should a heathen's haughty tongue Insult us; and, to raise our shame, [long?" Say, "Where's the God you've serv'd, so 3 The God, we serve, maintains his throne Above the clouds, beyond the skies: Thro' all the earth his will is done,
He knows our groans, he hears our cries. 4 But the vain idols, they adore,
Are senseless shapes of stone and wood;
At best a mass of glitt'ring ore,
A silver saint, or golden god.
5 With eyes and ears they carve the head;
Deaf are their ears, their eyes are blind;
To them in vain are off'rings made,
And vows are scatter'd in the wind.
6 Their feet were never made to move,
Nor hands to save when mortals pray:
Mortals, that pay them fear or love,
Seem to be blind and deaf, as they.
7 O Israel! make the Lord thy hope,
Thy help, thy refuge and thy rest;
The Lord shall build thy ruins up,
And bless the people and the priest.
8 The dead no more can speak thy praise;
They dwell in silence and the grave:
But we shall live to sing thy grace,
And tell the world thy pow'r to save.
PSALM 116. First Part. C. M.
Recovery from sickness.
LOVE the Lord; he heard my cries,
And pitied ev'ry groan:
Long as I live, when troubles rise,
I'll hasten to his throne.
2 I love the Lord; he bow'd his ear,
And chas'd my griefs away:
O! let my heart no more despair,
While I have breath to pray.
3 My flesh declin'd, my spirits fell,
And I drew near the dead;
While inward pangs, and fears of hell
Perplex'd my wakeful head.
4 "My God," I cried, "thy servant save,
"Thou ever good and just:
"Thy pow'r can rescue from the grave,
"Thy pow'r is all my trust."
5 The Lord beheld me sore distrest,
He bade my pains remove:
Return, my soul, to God, thy rest,
For thou hast known his love.
6 My God hath sav'd my soul from death,
And dried my falling tears:
Now to his praise I'll spend my breath,
And my remaining years.
PSALM 116. Second Part. C. M.
Public thanks for private deliverance.
HAT shall I render to my God,
For all his kindness shown?
My feet shall visit thine abode,
My songs address thy throne.
2 Among the saints that fill thine house, My off'rings shall be paid;
There shall my zeal perform the vows,
My soul in anguish made.
3 How much is mercy thy delight,
Thou ever blessed God!
How dear thy servants in thy sight!
How precious is their blood!
4 How happy all thy servants are!
How great thy grace to me!
My life, which thou hast made thy care,
Lord, I devote to thee.
5 Now I am thine, for ever thine,
Nor shall my purpose move;
Thy hand hath loos'd my bonds of pain,
And bound me with thy love.
6 Here in thy courts I leave my vow,
And thy rich grace record;
Witness, ye saints, who hear me now,
If I forsake the Lord.
PSALM 117. L. M.
Praise to God from all nations.
ROM all that dwell below the skies
Let the Creator's praise arise:
Let the Redeemer's name be sung
Thro' ev'ry land, by ev'ry tongue..
2 Eternal are thy mercies, Lord;
Eternal truth attends thy word;
Thy praise shall sound from shore to shore,
Till suns shall rise and set no more.
PSALM 118. First Part.
Deliverance from a tumult.
HE Lord appears my helper now,
Nor is my faith afraid;
Whate'er the sons of earth may do,
Since heav'n affords its aid,
2 'Tis safer, Lord, to hope in thee,
And have my God my friend,
Than trust in men of high degree,
And on their truth depend.
3 'Tis thro' the Lord my heart is strong,
In him my lips rejoice;
While his salvation is my song,
How cheerful is my voice!
4 Like angry bees, they girt me round;
When God appears, they fly:
So burning thorns with crackling sound,
Make a fierce blaze, and die.
5 Joy to the saints, and peace belongs;
The Lord protects their days:
Let Israel tune immortal songs
To his almighty grace.
PSALM 118. Second Part.
Public praise for deliverance from death.
LORD, thou hast heard thy servant cry,
And rescu'd from the grave;
Now shall he live: for none can die,
If God resolve to save.
2 Thy praise more constant than before,
Shall fill his daily breath;
Thy hand that hath chastis'd him sore,
Defends him still from death.
3 Open the gates of Zion now,
For we shall worship there;
The house where all the righteous go,
Thy mercy to declare.
4 Among th' assemblies of thy saints
Our thankful voice we raise;
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