The meanest fish that fwims the flood
Leaps up, and means a praise to God.
4 [The larger monfters of the deep
On thy commands attendance keep :
By thy permiffion, fport and play,
And cleave along their foaming way.
If God his voice of tempeft rears,
Leviathan lies ftill, and fears;
Anon he lifts his noftrils high,
And spouts the ocean to the sky.]
6 How is thy glorious power ador'd
Amidst thefe watery nations, Lord!
Yet the bold men that trace the feas,
Bold men refuse their Maker's praise.
7 [What fcenes of miracles they fee,
And never tune a fong to thee!
While on the flood they fafely ride,
They curfe the hand that fmooths the tide.
8 Anon they plunge in watery graves,
And fome drink death among the waves:
Yet the furviving crew blafpheme,
Nor own the God that refcu'd them.]
9 Oh, for fome fignal of thy hand!
Shake all the feas, Lord, thake the land:
Great Judge, defcend, left men deny
That there's a God who rules the fky.
From the 70th to the 108th hymn, I hope the reader will forgive the neglect of rhyme in the 1st and 3d lines of the flanza.
HYMN LXXI. Long Metre. [*]
Praife to God from all creatures.
HE glories of my Maker, God,
My joyful voice fhall fing,
And call the nations to adore
Their Former and their King.
'Twas his tight hand that fhap'd our clay,
And wrought this human frame;
But from his own immediate breath
Our nobler fpirits came.
3 We bring our mortal powers to God
And worship with our tongues:
We claim fome kindred with the skies,
And join th' angelic fongs.
4 Let grov'ling beafts of every shape,
And fowls of every wing,
And rocks, and trees, and fires, and feas,
Their various tribute bring.
5 Ye planets, to his honour fhine;
And wheels of nature, roll;
Praife him in your unweary'd courfe
Around the fteady pole.
6 The brightness of our Maker's name
The wide creation fills,
And his unbounded grandeur flies
Beyond the heavenly hills.
HYMN LXXII. Common Metre. [*]
The Lord's day; or, the refurrection of Christ.
LEST morning, whofe young dawning rays
Bound?
That faw him triumph o'er the dust,
And leave his laft abode !
a In the cold prifon of a tomb.
The dear Redeemer lay,
Till the revolving fkies had brought
The third, th' appointed day.
3 Hell and the grave unite their force
To hold our God in vain;
The fleeping Conqueror arofe,
And burft their feeble chain.
4 To thy great name, almighty Lord,
Thefe facred hours we pay ;
And loud hofannas fhall proclaim
The triumph of the day.
5 [Salvation and immortal praise
To our victorious King;
Let heaven and earth, and rocks, and feas,
With glad hofannas ring.]
HYMN LXXIII. Common Metre. [1
Doubts fcattered; or, Spiritual joys restored.
ENCE from my foul, fad thoughts, be gone, Hand leave me to my joys;
My tongue fhall triumph in my God,
And make a joyful nɔise.
2 Darkness and doubts had veil'd my mind,
And drown'd my head in tears,
Till fovereign grace, with fhining rays,
Difpell'd my gloomy fears.
3 Oh! what immortal joys I felt,
And raptures all divine-
When Jefus told me I was his,
And my Beloved mine.
In vain the tempter frights my foul,
And breaks my peace in vain;
One glimpfe, dear Saviour, of thy face,
Revives my joys again.
Repentance from a fenfe of divine goodness;
complaint of ingratitude.
'S this the kind return,
there the thanks we owe,
Thus to abufe eternal love,
Whence all our bleffings flow!
To what a ftubborn frame
Has fin reduc'd our mind!
What frange rebellious wretches we,
And God as frangely kind!
[On us he bids the fun
Shed his reviving rays;
For us the fkies their circles run,
To lengthen out our days.
The brutes obey their God,
And bow their necks to men:
But we, more bafe, more brutish things,
Reject his eafy reign.]
Turn, turn us, mighty God,
And mould our fouls afresh;
Break, fovereign grace, thefe hearts of flone,
And give us hearts of flesh.
Let old ingratitude
Provoke our weeping eyes;
And hourly, as new mercies fall,
Let hourly thanks arife.
HYMN LXXV. Common Metre.
Spiritual and eternal joy; or, the beatific vipon of Chrift.
ROM thee, my God, my joys fhall rife,
And run eternal rounds,
Beyond the limits of the fkies,
And all created bounds.
The holy triumphs of my foul
Shall death itself outbrave,
Leave dull mortality behind,
And fly beyond the grave.
3 There, where my bleffed Jefus reigns,
In heavens, unmeasur'd space,
I'll spend a long eternity
In pleasure, and in praise.
4 Millions of years my wondering eyes
Shall o'er thy beauties rove;
And endless ages I'll adore
The glories of thy love.
[Sweet Jefus ! every fmile of thine
Shall fresh endearments bring,
And thoufand tastes of new delight
From all thy graces fpring.
6 Hafte, my Beloved, fetch my foul
Up to thy bleft abode;
Fly, for my fpirit longs to fee
My Saviour, and my God.]
HYMN LXXVI. Common Metre. [*]
The refurrection and afcenfion of Christ.
H who cloth'd himself in clay
OSANNA to the Prince of Light,
Enter'd the iron gates of death,
And tore the bars away.
2 Death is no more the king of dread,
Since our Immanuel rofe;
He took the tyrant's fting away,
And fpoil'd our hellish foes.
3 See, how the Conqueror mounts aloft,'
And to his Father flies,
With fears of honour in his flesh,
And triumph in his eyes.
There our exalted Saviour reigns,
And scatters bleffings down;
Our Jefus fills the middle feat
Of the celeftial throne.
[Raife your devotion, mortal tongues,
To reach his blefs'd abode;
Sweet be the accents of your fongs
To our incarnate God.
6 Bright angels, ftrike your loudeft ftrings,
Your fweeteft voices raife;
Let heaven, and all created things,
Sound our Immanuel's praife.]
HYMN LXXVII.
STAND
up, my foul, fhake off thy fears,
And gird the gofpel armour on;
March to the gates of endless joy,
Where thy great Captain-Saviour's gone.
2 Hell and thy fins refift thy courfe;
But hell and fin are vanquifh'd foes;
Thy Jefus nail'd them to the cross,
And fung the triumph when he rose.
3 [What though the prince of darkness rage,
And wafte the fury of his fpite?
Eternal chains confine him down
To fiery deeps and endless night.
What though thine inward lufts rebel?
'Tis but a ftruggling gafp for life;
The weapons of victorious grace
Shall flay thy fins, and end the strife.]
5 Then let my foul march boldly on,
Prefs forward to the heavenly gate;
There peace and joy eternal reign,
And glittering robes for conquerors wait.
6 There fhall I wear a ftarry crown,
And triumph in almighty grace,
While all the armies of the fkies
Join in my glorious Leader's praise.
HYMN LXXVIII. Common Metre. [b]
Redemption by Christ.
HEN the firft parents of our race
Rebell'd, and loft their God,
And the infection of their fin
Had tainted all our blood;
2 Infinite pity touch'd the heart
Of the eternal Son;
Defcending from the heavenly court,
He left his Father's throne.
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