698 WATTS. The aged Saint's Reflection and Hope. Ps. 71. 1 MY God, my everlasting Hope, I live upon thy truth; And strengthened all my youth. 2 Still has my life new wonders seen Repeated every year ; I trust them to thy care. When hoary hairs arise ; Whene'er thy servant dies. When men review my days, In every line thy praise. 699 ADDISON. The Traveller's Hymn. 1 HOW are thy servants blest, O Lord ! How sure is their defence ! Eternal wisdom is their guide, Their help omnipotence. 2 In foreign realms, and lands remote, Supported by thy care, They pass unhurt through burning climes, And breathe in tainted air. 3 Thy mercy sweetens every soil, Makes every region please; And smooths the boisterous seas. High on the broken wave, Nor impotent to save. Obedient to thy will; At thy command is still. Thy goodness I'll adore, And humbly hope for more. 700 WATTS. The Seaman's Hymn. Ps. 107. 1 WOULD you behold the works of God, His wonders in the world abroad, The unknown regions of the seas. And seize the favor of the wind, That heave the ocean to the skies. Lost to all hope, to God they cry; 4 He bids the winds their wrath assuage; The furious waves forget their rage; The haven where they wished to be. 5 O, may the sons of men record The wondrous goodness of the Lord; 701 L. M. J. Q. Adams. Ps. 107. 1 O THAT the race of men would raise Their voices to their heavenly King, And with the sacrifice of praise The glories of Jehovah sing ! Ye navigators of the sea, Your course on ocean's tides who keep, And there Jehovah's wonders see, His wonders in the briny deep! 2 He speaks; conflicting whirlwinds fly; The waves in swelling torrents flow; They mount, aspire to heaven on high; They sink, as if to hell below: Their souls with terror melt away ; They stagger, as if drunk with wine ; Their skill is vain, to thee they pray; 0, save them, Energy divine ! 3 He stays the storm ; the waves subside; Their hearts with rapture are inspired ; Soft breezes waft them o'er the tide, In gladness, to their port desired : O that mankind the song would raise, Jehovah's goodness to proclaim ! Assembled elders bless his name ! 702 WATTS. The Exile's Hymn. Ps. 137. 1 WHEN by the flowing brooks we sat, The brooks of Babylon the proud, We thought on Sion's mournful state, And wept her woes, and wailed aloud. . 2 Thoughtless of every cheerful air, For grief had all our harps unstrung, Our harps, neglected in despair, And silent, on the willows hung. 3 Our foes, who made our land their spoil, Our barbarous lords, with haughty tongues Bid us forget our groans awhile, And give a taste of Sion's songs. Our holy songs to ears profane ? Pronounce thy dreadful name in vain ? 5 O, let my tongue grow dry, and cleave Fast to my mouth in silence still ; Let some avenging power bereave My fingers of their tuneful skill, 6 If I thy sacred rites profane, O Salem, or thy dust despise, If I indulge one cheerful strain, Till I shall see thy towers arise. DOXOLOGIES. 1 S. M. TO God, the only wise, Our Savior and our King, Their grateful praises bring. TO God, the only wise, Who keeps us by his word, Be glory now and evermore, Through Jesus Christ our Lord. TO him who reigns in worlds of light, The Eternal King of heaven, Be honor, majesty, and might, And praise, and glory, given. |