HYMNS. 'Tis pleasant to believe Thy grace, We would be absent from the flesh, Moses Dying in the Embrace of God. Death cannot make our souls afraid, We may walk through its darkest shade, I could renounce my all below, And run, if I were call'd to go, And die as Moses did. Might I but climb to Pisgah's top, Clasp'd in my heav'nly Father's arms, The Death and Burial of a Saint. Why do we mourn departing friends? Are we not tending upward too As fast as time can move? Nor should we wish the hours more slow, Why should we tremble to convey Their bodies to the tomb? There the dear flesh of Jesus lay, And left a long perfume. 321 The graves of all His saints He bless'd Where should the dying members rest, Thence He arose, ascending high, Then let the last loud trumpet sound, The Shortness of Life, and the Goodness of God. Time! what an empty vapour 'tis ! And days how swift they are! Swift as an Indian arrow flies, Our life is ever on the wing, The moment when our lives begin, Yet, mighty God! our fleeting days 'Tis sovereign mercy finds us food, His goodness runs an endless round: All glory to the Lord! His mercy never knows a bound; And be His name adored! PSALMS. Thus we begin the lasting song; Let the next age Thy praise prolong, PSALMS. 323 [As has already been stated, Dr Watts's Psalms are not mere renderings of the Hebrew Psalter into English metre, but an adaptation of the songs of Zion to the worship of the New Testament Church. Of this plan the following may serve as an exemplification:-] Psalm viii. O Lord, our Lord, how wondrous great Is Thine exalted name! The glories of Thy heavenly state, When I behold Thy works on high, Lord! what is man, or all his race, That Thou shouldst visit him with grace, And love his nature so? That Thine eternal Son should bear To take a mortal form; Made lower than His angels are, To save a dying worm! Let Him be crown'd with majesty Jesus, our Lord, how wondrous great The glories of Thy heavenly state, Let the whole earth proclaim. Psalm Ixxii. Jesus shall reign where'er the sun Behold the islands with their kings, There Persia, glorious to behold, For Him shall endless prayer be made, People and realms of every tongue Blessings abound where'er He reigns; Where He displays His healing power, Let every creature rise and bring |