If o'er our fins we think to draw
The curtains of the night;

Thofe flaming eyes, that guard thy law,
Would turn the fhades to light.

The beams of noon, the midnight hour Are both alike to thee :

Lord! we have finn'd against that pow'r, From which we cannot flee.

L

22. C. M.

WATTS'S H.

The Decrees of God.

ET the whole race of creatures lie
Abas'd before their God;

Whate'er his fov'reign voice has form'd
He governs with a nod.

Ten thousand ages e'er the skies
Were into motion brought,

All the long years and worlds to come
Stood present to his thought.

There's not a fparrow or a worm
But's found in his decrees;
He raises monarchs to their throne,
And finks them as he please.

If light attend the course I run,
'Tis he provides those rays;
And 'tis his hand that hides my fun,
If darkness cloud my days.

Yet I would not be much concern'd,
Nor vainly long to fee

The volumes of his deep decrees,

What months are writ for me.

When he reveals the book of life,
O, may I read my name
Amongst the chofen of his love,

The follow'rs of the Lamb!

G

God's eternal Dominion.

REAT God, how infinite art thou!
What worthlefs worms are we!
Let the whole race of creatures bow,
And pay their praise to thee.
Thy throne eternal ages ftood,
É'er feas or ftars were made:
Thou art the ever-living God,
Were all the nations dead.
Nature and time quite naked lie
To thine immense survey,
From the formation of the sky
To the great burning day.
Eternity, with all its years,

Stands prefent in thy view;
To thee there's nothing old appears,
To thee there's nothing new.

Our lives thro' various scenes are drawn,

And rex'd with trifling cares; While thine eternal thought moves on

Thine undisturb'd affairs.

Great God, how infinite art thou!
What worthlefs worms are we!
Let the whole race of creatures bow,
And pay their praise to thee,

ET

The wisdom of God.

TERNAL Wisdom, thee we praise,
Thee the creation fings:

With thy lov'd name, rocks, hills, and feas,
And heav'n's high palace rings.

Thy hand, how wide it spread the sky!
How glorious to behold!

3

Ting'd with a blue of heav'nly dye,
And ftarr'd with sparkling gold.

Thy glories blaze all nature round,
And strike the gazing fight,
Thro' fkies, and feas, and folid ground,
With terror and delight.

Infinite ftrength, and equal skill

Shine thro' the worlds abroad; !
Our fouls with raft amazement fill,
And speak the Builder God.

But, in thy gofpel's wond'rous frame,
Fresh wifdom we pursue;
A thousand angels learn thy name,
Beyond whate'er they knew.

Thy name is writ in faireft lines,
Thy wonders here we trace:
Wisdom thro' all the myft'ry fhines,
And thines in Jefus' face.

B

25. C. M. WATTS and STEEL.

The Goodness of God.

WEET is the mention of thy grace,

So God, our heav nly King!
Let age to age thy righteousness
In founds of glory fing.

God reigns on high, but not confines
His goodness to the ikies;

Thro' the whole earth his bounty fhines,
And ev'ry want fupplies.

With longing eyes his creatures wait
On him for daily food,

His lib'ral hand provides them meat,
And fills their mouths with good.

All nature owns his guardian care,
In him we live and move;
But nobler benefits declare
The wonders of his love.

He gave his Son, bis only Son,
To ransom rebel worms;

"Tis here he makes his goodness known
In its diviner forms.

Great God, to thy almighty love,

What honors thall we raise ?

Not all the raptur'd fongs above
Can render equal praife.

26. C. M. WATTS'S H.

The Faithfulness of God.

BEGIN, my tongue, fome daily theme,

And speak fome boundless thing,
The mighty works, or mightier name
Of our eternal King,

Tell of his wond'rous faithfulness,
And found his pow'r abroad;
Sing the sweet promife of his grace,
And the performing God.

Proclaim Salvation from the Lord,
For wretched, dying men :
His hand hath writ the facred word.
With an immortal pen.

Engrav'd, as in eternal brass,
The mighty promise shines ;
Nor can the pow'rs of darkness rafe
Thofe everlafting lines.

His ev'ry word of grace is strong

As that which built the fkies;
The voice, that rolls the ftars along,
Spake all the promises.

Lord, might I hear thy heavn'ly tongue
But whifper, Thou art mine!

Thofe gracious words should raise.
To notes almost divine.

my song

How would my leaping heart rejoice,
And think my heav'n fecure!
Give me to hear thy peaceful voice,

And faith defires no more.