FROM PSALM XIX. THE spacious firmament on high, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Th' unwearied sun, from day to day, Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly, to the listening earth, Repeats the story of her birth; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole. What though, in solemn silence, all For ever singing, as they shine, FROM PSALM CXXX. WHEN, rising from the bed of death, I see my Maker face to face,- If now, while pardon may be found, My heart with inward horror shrinks, When Thou, O Lord! shall stand disclosed In majesty severe, And sit in judgment on my soul, Oh! how shall I appear! But Thou hast told the troubled soul, That doth her sins lament, That Jesus suffered unto death Her sufferings to prevent. Then never shall my soul despair, Thy mercy to procure, Since Christ, thine only Son, hath died To make that pardon sure! PSALM XLVI. GOD is our refuge in distress, Torn piece-meal by the roaring tide. A gentler stream, with gladness still The royal seat of God most high: In tumults when the heathen raged, And kingdoms war against us waged, He thundered, and dispersed their powers: The Lord of Hosts conducts our arms, Our fathers' guardian God and ours. |