3 Then, in the temples of the LORD,
Assembling round a throne of grace,
We sing, and pray, and hear the word,
And meet our Maker face to face.
+ Salvation's silver trumpet brings
Heaven's richest music to our ears;
Happy, whose heart with rapture springs,
At the first welcome note he hears.
5 He, when the last dread trumpet's tone
The dead to second life shall call,
May stand unmoved before the throne,
Though stars, like lightnings, round him fall.
6 He, where eternal sabbaths shine,
Where all by GOD himself are taught,
Lessons shall learn of truth divine,
Of power and love, surpassing thought.
God's great Deliverances of His People.-Ps. cvii.
1 THANK and praise Jehovah's name,
For his mercies firm and sure,
From eternity the same,
To eternity endure.
2 Let the ransom'd thus rejoice,
Gather'd out of every land;
As the people of his choice,
Pluck'd from the destroyer's hand.
3 In the wilderness astray,
Hither, thither, while they roam,
Hungry, fainting by the way,
Far from refuge, shelter, home;— 4 Then unto the LORD they cry; He inclines a gracious ear, Sends deliverance from on high, Rescues them from all their fear. 5 To a pleasant land He brings,
Where the vine and olive grow,
Where from flowery hills the springs
Through luxuriant valleys flow.
6 O that men would praise the LORD,
For His goodness to their race;
For the wonders of His word,
And the riches of His grace!
PART II.- From Captivity.
7 They that mourn in dungeon-gloom, Bound in iron and despair,
Sentenced to a heavier doom
Than the pangs they suffer there;—
8 Foes and rebels once to God,
They disdain'd His high controul;
Now they feel His fiery rod,
Striking terrors through their soul.
9 Wrung with agony, they fall
To the dust, and, gazing round,
Call for help;-in vain they call;
Help, nor hope, nor friend are found.
10 Then unto the LORD they cry;
He inclines a gracious ear,
Sends deliverance from on high,
Rescues them from all their fear.
11 He restores their forfeit breath,
Breaks in twain the gates of brass;
From the bands and grasp of death,
Forth to liberty they pass.
12 O that men would praise the LORD,
For His goodness to their race,
For the wonders of His word,
And the riches of His grace!
PART III.- From Malignant Disease.
13 Sinners, for transgression, see
Sharp disease their youth consume,
And their beauty, like a tree,
Withering on an early tomb.
14 Food is loathsome to their taste,
And the eye revolts from light;
All their joys to ruin hastę,
As the sunset into night.
15 Then unto the LORD they cry;
He inclines a gracious ear,
Sends deliverance from on high,
Rescues them from all their fear.
16 He with health renews their frame,
Lengthens out their number'd days
Let them glorify His name
With the sacrifice of praise.
17 O that men would praise the LORD,
For His goodness to their race,
For the wonders of His word,
And the riches of His grace!
PART IV.-Perils on the Deep.
18 They that toil upon the deep, And, in vessels light and frail, O'er the mighty waters sweep, With the billow and the gale,19 Mark what wonders GOD performs, When He speaks, and, unconfined, Rush to battle all His storms,
In the chariots of the wind.
20 Up to heaven their bark is whirl'd On the mountain of the wave, Down as suddenly 'tis hurl'd
To the' abysses of the grave.
21 To and fro they reel and roll, As intoxicate with wine; Terrors paralyze their soul,
Helm they quit, and hope resign.
22 Then unto the LORD they cry;
He inclines a gracious ear,
Sends deliverance from on high,
Rescues them from all their fear.
23 Calm and smooth the surges flow, And, where deadly lightning ran,
GOD's own reconciling bow
Metes the ocean with a span.
24 O that men would praise the LORD,
For His goodness to their race,
For the wonders of His word,
And the riches of His grace!
Time past, Time passing, Time to come. -Ps. xc.
1 LORD, Thou hast been Thy people's rest
Through all their generations;
Their refuge when by troubles prest,
Their hope in tribulations:
Thou, ere the mountains sprang to birth,
Or ever Thou hadst form'd the earth,
Art GOD from everlasting.
2 Our life is like the transient breath,
That tells a mournful story;
Early or late, stopt short by death;
And where is all our glory?
Our days are threescore years and ten,
And if the span be lengthen'd then,
Their strength is toil and sorrow.
3 Lo! Thou hast set before Thine eyes
All our misdeeds and errors;
Our secret sins from darkness rise
At Thine awakening terrors:
Who shall abide the trying hour?
Who knows the thunder of Thy power?
We flee unto Thy mercy.
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