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Whatever brawls disturb the street

Publication Date: 1866Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HXVIIMeter: 8.6.8.6First Line: Whatever brawls disturb the streetLyrics: Whatever brawls disturb the street, There should be peace at home; Where sisters dwell and brothers meet Quarrels should never come. Birds in their little nests agree; And ‘tis a shameful sight, When children of one family Fall out, and chide, and fight. 60 Hard names at first, and threatening words, That are but noisy breath, May grow to clubs and naked swords, To murder and to death. The devil tempts one mother’s son To rage against another: So wicked Cain was hurried on, Till he had kill’d his brother. The wise will let their anger cool, At least before ‘tis night; But in the bosom of a fool It burns till morning light. Pardon, O Lord, our childish rage, Our little brawls remove, That, as we grow to riper age, Our hearts may all be love!
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Our tongues were made to bless the Lord

Publication Date: 1866Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HXVIIIMeter: 8.6.8.6First Line: Our tongues were made to bless the LordLyrics: Our tongues were made to bless the Lord, And not speak ill of men: When others give a railing word, We must not rail again. Cross words and angry names require To be chastised at school; And he’s in danger of hell–fire That calls his brother fool. 62 But lips that dare be so profane To mock, and jeer, and scoff At holy things, or holy men, The Lord shall cut them off. When children, in their wanton play, Served old Elisha so, And bade the prophet go his way, ‘Go up, thou bald head, go!’ God quickly stopp’d their wicked breath; And sent two raging bears, That tore them limb from limb to death, With blood, and groans, and tears. Great God! how terrible art thou To sinners e’er so young: Grant me thy grace, and teach me how To tame and rule my tongue.
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Angels, that high in glory dwell

Publication Date: 1866Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HXIXMeter: 8.8.8.8First Line: Angels, that high in glory dwellLyrics: Angels, that high in glory dwell, Adore thy Name, Almighty God! And devils tremble down in hell, Beneath the terrors of thy rod. 64 And yet how wicked children dare Abuse thy dreadful, glorious Name! And when they’re angry, how they swear, And curse their fellows, and blaspheme! How will they stand before thy face, Who treated thee with such disdain, While thou shalt doom them to the place Of everlasting fire and pain? Then never shall one cooling drop To quench their burning tongues be given; But I will praise thee here, and hope Thus to employ my tongue in heaven. My heart shall be in pain to hear Wretches affront the Lord above: ’Tis that great God whose power I fear, That heavenly Father whom I love. If my companions grow profane, I’ll leave their friendship when I hear Young sinners take thy Name in vain, And learn to curse, and learn to swear.
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How doth the little busy bee

Publication Date: 1866Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HXXMeter: 8.6.8.6First Line: How doth the little busy beeLyrics: How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower! 66 How skillfully she builds her cell! How neat she spreads the wax! And labours hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes. In works of labour or of skill I would be busy too: For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. In books, or work, or healthful play Let my first years be past, That I may give for every day Some good account at last.
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Why should I join with those in play

Publication Date: 1866Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HXXIMeter: 8.6.8.6First Line: Why should I join with those in playLyrics: Why should I join with those in play In whom I’ve no delight; Who curse and swear, but never play; Who call ill names, and fight? I hate to hear a wanton song: Their words offend my ears: I should not dare defile my tongue With language such as theirs. 68 Away from fools I’ll turn my eyes, Nor with the scoffers go: I would be walking with the wise, That wiser I may grow. From one rude boy, that’s used to mock, They learn the wicked jest: One sickly sheep infects the flock, And poisons all the rest. My God, I hate to walk or dwell With sinful children here: Then let me not be sent to hell, Where none but sinners are.
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Why should our garments, made to hide

Publication Date: 1866Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HXXIIMeter: 8.8.8.8First Line: Why should our garments, made to hideLyrics: Why should our garments, made to hide Our parents’ shame, provoke our pride? The art of dress did ne’er begin Till Eve our mother learnt to sin. 70 When first she put the covering on, Her robe of innocence was gone; And yet her children vainly boast In the sad marks of glory lost. How proud we are! how fond to shew Our clothes, and call them rich and new, When the poor sheep and silkworms wore That very clothing long before! The tulip and the butterfly Appear in gayer coats than I: Let me be dress’d fine as I will, Flies, worms, and flowers exceed me still. 71 Then will I set my heart to find Inward adornings of the mind: Knowledge and virtue, truth and grace, These are the robes of richest dress. No more shall worms with me compare, This is the raiment angels wear: The Son of God, when here below, Put on this blest apparel too. It never fades, it ne’er grows old, Nor fears the rain, nor moth, nor mould: It takes no spot, but still refines; The more ‘tis worn, the more it shines. 72 In this on earth would I appear, Then go to heaven, and wear it there: God will approve it in his sight; ’Tis his own work, and his delight.
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Let children that would fear the Lord

Publication Date: 1866Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HXXIIIMeter: 8.6.8.6First Line: Let children that would fear the LordLyrics: Let children that would fear the Lord Hear what their teachers say; With reverence meet their parents’ word, And with delight obey. 74 Have you not heard what dreadful plagues Are threaten’d by the Lord, To him that breaks his father’s law, Or mocks his mother’s word? What heavy guilt upon him lies! How cursed is his name! The ravens shall pick out his eyes, And eagles eat the same. But those who worship God, and give Their parents honour due, Here on this earth they long shall live, And live hereafter, too.
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Why should I love my sports so well

Publication Date: 1866Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HXXIVMeter: 8.6.8.6First Line: Why should I love my sports so wellLyrics: Why should I love my sports so well, So constant at my play, And lose the thoughts of heaven and hell, And then forget to pray? 76 What do I read my Bible for, But, Lord, to learn thy will? And shall I daily know thee more, And less obey thee still? How senseless is my heart, and wild! How vain are all my thoughts! Pity the weakness of a child, And pardon all my faults. Make me thy heavenly voice to hear, And let me love to pray; Since God will lend a gracious ear To what a child can say.
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My God, who makes the sun to know

Publication Date: 1866Author: Isaac WattsHymnal: Divine and Moral Songs #HXXVMeter: 8.6.8.6First Line: My God, who makes the sun to knowLyrics: My God, who makes the sun to know His proper hour to rise; And, to give light to all below, Doth send him round the skies: 78 When from the chambers of the east His morning race begins, He never tires, nor stops to rest, But round the world he shines. So, like the sun, would I fulfil The business of the day; Begin my work betimes, and still March on my heavenly way. Give me, O Lord, thy early grace, Nor let my soul complain That the young morning of my day Has all been spent in vain!

Eccles. 7:2-6: While others crowd the house of mirth

Publication Date: 1800Hymnal: Scottish Psalter and Paraphrases #R14Meter: 8.6.8.6First Line: While others crowd the house of mirthLyrics: While others crowd the house of mirth, and haunt the gaudy show, Let such as would with Wisdom dwell, frequent the house of woe. Better to weep with those who weep, and share th’ afflicted’s smart, Than mix with fools in giddy joys that cheat and wound the heart. When virtuous sorrow clouds the face, and tears bedim the eye, The soul is led to solemn thought, and wafted to the Sky. The wise in heart revisit oft grief’s dark sequestered cell; The thoughtless still with levity and mirth delight to dwell. The noisy laughter of the fool is like the crackling sound Of blazing thorns, which quickly fall in ashes to The ground. Scripture: Ecclesiastes 7:2-6Languages: English

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