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Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HX (1866)Meter: 22.214.171.124Lyrics:
There is a God that reigns above,
Lord of the heavens, and earth, and seas:
I fear his wrath, I ask his love,
And with my lips I sing his praise.
There is a law which he has writ,
To teach us all what we must do:
My soul, to his commands submit,
For they are holy, just, and true.
There is a Gospel of rich grace,
Whence sinners all their comforts draw:
Lord, I repent, and seek thy face,
For I have often broke thy law.
There is an hour when I must die,
Nor do I know how soon ‘twill come:
A thousand children, young as I,
Are call’d by death to hear their doom.
Let me improve the hours I have,
Before the day of grace is fled:
There’s no repentance in the grave,
No pardon offer’d to the dead.
Just as a tree cut down, that fell
To north or southward, there it lies,
So man departs to heaven or hell,
Fix’d in the state wherein he dies.
Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HIX (1866)Meter: 126.96.36.199Lyrics:
Almighty God, thy piercing eye
Strikes through the shades of night,
And our most secret actions lie
All open to thy sight.
There’s not a sin that we commit,
Nor wicked word we say,
But in thy dreadful book ‘tis writ
Against the judgment–day.
And must the crimes that I have done
Be read and publish’d there;
Be all exposed before the sun,
While men and angels hear?
Lord, at thy feet ashamed I lie;
Upward I dare not look:
Pardon my sins before I die,
And blot them from thy book.
Remember all the dying pains
That my Redeemer felt;
And let his blood wash out my stains,
And answer for my guilt.
O may I now for ever fear
T’ indulge a sinful thought,
Since the great God can see and hear,
And writes down ev’ry fault!
Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HVIII (1866)Meter: 188.8.131.52Lyrics:
The praises of my tongue
I offer to the Lord,
That I was taught and learnt so young
To read his holy Word.
That I am taught to know
The danger I was in;
By nature, and by practice too,
A wretched slave to sin.
That I am led to see
I can do nothing well;
And whither shall a sinner flee,
To save himself from hell?
Dear Lord, this book of thine
Informs me where to go,
For grace to pardon all my sin,
And make me holy too.
Here I can read and learn
How Christ, the Son of God,
Did undertake our great concern;
Our ransom cost his blood.
And now he reigns above,
He sends his Spirit down,
To show the wonders of his love,
And make his Gospel known.
O may that Spirit teach,
And make my heart receive
Those truths which all thy servants preach,
And all thy saints believe.
Then shall I praise the Lord
In a more cheerful strain,
That I was taught to read his Word,
And have not learnt in vain.
Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HVI (1866)Meter: 184.108.40.206Lyrics:
Lord, I ascribe it to thy grace,
And not to chance as others do,
That I was born of Christian race,
And not a heathen, or a Jew.
What would the ancient Jewish kings
And Jewish prophets once have given,
Could they have heard these glorious things
Which Christ reveal’d and brought from heaven!
How glad the Heathens would have been,
That worshipp’d idols, wood, and stone,
If they the book of God had seen,
Or Jesus and his gospel known!
Then, if the Gospel I refuse,
How shall I e’er lift up mine eyes?
For all the Gentiles and the Jews
Against me will in judgment rise.
Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HVII (1866)Meter: 220.127.116.11Lyrics:
Great God, with wonder and with praise
On all thy works I look:
But still thy wisdom, power, and grace
Shine brighter in thy Book.
The stars that in their courses roll
Have much instruction given;
But thy good Word informs my soul
How I may climb to heaven.
The fields provide me food, and show
The goodness of the Lord;
But fruits of life and glory grow
In thy most holy Word.
Here are my choicest treasures hid;
Here my best comfort lies;
Here my desires are satisfied;
And hence my joys arise.
Lord, make me understand thy law:
Show what my faults have been;
And from thy Gospel let me draw
Pardon for all my sin.
Here would I learn how Christ has died
To save my soul from hell:
Not all the books on earth beside
Such heavenly wonders tell.
Then let me love my Bible more;
And take a fresh delight
By day to read these wonders o’er,
And meditate by night.
Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HV (1866)Meter: 18.104.22.168Lyrics:
Great God, to thee my voice I raise,
To thee my youngest hours belong:
I would begin my life with praise,
Till growing years improve the song.
’Tis to thy sovereign grace I owe
That I was born on Christian ground;
Where streams of heavenly mercy flow,
And words of sweet salvation sound.
I would not change my native land
For rich Peru, with all her gold:
A nobler prize lies in my hand
Than east or western Indies hold.
How do I pity those that dwell
Where ignorance and darkness reign!
They know no heaven—they fear no hell—
That endless joy—that endless pain.
Thy glorious promises, O Lord,
Kindle my hopes and my desire:
While all the preachers of thy word
Warn me t’ escape eternal fire.
Thy praise shall still employ my breath,
Since thou hast mark’d my way to heaven,
Nor will I run the road to death,
And waste the blessings thou hast given.
Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HIII (1866)Meter: 22.214.171.124Lyrics:
Blest be the wisdom and the power,
The justice and the grace,
That join’d in counsel to restore
And save our ruin’d grace!
Our father ate forbidden fruit,
And from his glory fell;
And we, his children, thus were brought
To death, and near to hell.
Blest be the Lord, that sent his Son
To take our flesh and blood!
He for our lives gave up his own,
To make our peace with God.
He honour’d all his Father’s laws,
Which we have disobeyed’d;
He bore our sins upon the cross,
And our full ransom paid.
Behold him rising from the grave;
Behold him raised on high:
He pleads his merits there, to save
Transgressors doom’d to die.
There, on a glorious throne, he reigns;
And by his power divine
Redeems us from the slavish chains
Of Satan and of sin.
Thence shall the Lord to judgment come;
And, with a sovereign voice,
Shall call and break up every tomb,
While waking saints rejoice.
O may I then with joy appear
Before the Judge’s face;
And, with the blest assembly there,
Sing his redeeming grace.
Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HIV (1866)Meter: 126.96.36.199Lyrics:
Whene’er I take my walks abroad,
How many poor I see!
What shall I render to my God
For all his gifts to me?
Not more than others I deserve,
Yet God hath given me more:
For I have food, while others starve,
Or beg from door to door.
How many children in the street
Half naked I behold!
While I am clothed from head to feet,
And cover’d from the cold.
While some poor wretches scarce can tell
Where they may lay their head,
I have a home wherein to dwell,
And rest upon my bed.
While others early learn to swear,
And curse, and lie, and steal,
Lord, I am taught thy name to fear,
And do thy holy will.
Are these thy favours, day by day,
To me above the rest?
Then let me love thee more than they,
And try to serve thee best.
Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #SVIII (1866)Meter: 188.8.131.52Lyrics:
Hush, my dear! Lie still, and slumber!
Holy angels guard thy bed!
Heavenly blessings, without number,
Gently falling on thy head.
Sleep, my babe! thy food and raiment,
House and home, thy friends provide;
All without thy care or payment,
All thy wants are well supplied.
How much better thou’rt attended
Than the Son of God could be,
When from heaven he descended,
And became a child like thee!
Soft and easy is thy cradle:
Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay,
When his birthplace was a stable,
And his softest bed was hay.
Blessed Babe! what glorious features,—
Spotless fair, divinely bright!
Must he dwell with brutal creatures?
How could angels bear the sight?
Was there nothing but a manger
Cursed sinners could afford,
To receive the heavenly stranger?
Did they thus affront the Lord?
Soft, my child! I did not chide thee,
Though my song might sound too hard:
’Tis thy mother sits beside thee,
And her arm shall be thy guard.
Yet to read the shameful story.
How the Jews received their King,
How they served the Lord of Glory,
Makes me angry while I sing.
See the kinder shepherds round him,
Telling wonders from the sky!
Where hey sought him, there they found him,
With his Virgin–mother by.
See the lovely Babe a–dressing:
Lovely infant, how he smiled!
When he wept, his mother’s blessing
Sooth’d and hush’d the holy Child.
Lo, he slumbers in a manger,
Where the horned oxen fed!—
Peace, my darling, here’s no danger:
There’s no ox a–near thy bed.
’Twas so save thee, child, from dying,
Save my dear from burning flame,
Bitter groans and endless crying,
That thy blest Redeemer came.
May’st thou live to know and fear him,
Trust and love him all thy days,
Then go dwell for ever near him:
See his face, and sing his praise!
I could give thee thousand kisses!
Hoping what I most desire,
Not a mother’s fondest wishes
Can to greater joys aspire!
Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #SVII (1866)Meter: 184.108.40.206Lyrics:
How fine has the day been! how bright was the sun!
How lovely and joyful the course that he run;
Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun,
And there followed some droppings of rain:
But now the fair traveller’s come to the west,
His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best;
He paints the skies gay as he sinks to his rest,
And foretells a bright rising again.
Just such is the Christian. His course he begins
Like the sun in a mist, while he mourns for his sins,
And melts into tears! then he breaks out and shines,
And travels his heavenly way:
But when he comes nearer to finish his race,
Like a fine setting sun, he looks richer in grace;
And gives a sure hope, at the end of his days,
Of rising in brighter array.