2 When in the sultry glebe I faint,
Or on the thirsty mountain pant,
To fertile vales and dewy meads
My weary, wand'ring steps he leads,
Where peaceful rivers soft and slow,
Amid the verdant landscape flow.
3 Though in the paths of death I tread,
With gloomy horrors overspread,
My stedfast heart shall fear no ill,
For thou, O Lord, art with me still:
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid,
And guide me through the dreadful shade:
4 Though in a bare and rugged way,
Through devious lonely wilds I stray,
Thy bounty shall my pains beguile,
The barren wilderness shall smile,
With sudden greens and herbage crown'd,
And streams shall murmur all around.
128 Grateful review of the conduct of Providence. C. M WHEN all thy mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys;
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise.
2 Thy providence my life sustain'd,
And all my wants redrest,
When in the silent womb I lay,
And hung upon the breast.
3 Unnumber'd comforts on my soul Thy tender care bestow'd, Before my infant heart conceiv'd
From whom those comforts flow'd.
4 When in the slipp'ry paths of youth, With heedless steps I ran,
Thine arm, unseen, convey'd me safe,
And led me on to man.
5 When worn by sickness, oft hast thou
With health renew'd my face;
And, when in sins and sorrows sunk,
Reviv'd my soul with
6 Through ev'ry period of
Thy goodness I'll pursue;
And after death in distant worlds
The glorious theme renew.
7 When nature fails, and day and night Divide thy works no more,
My ever grateful heart, O Lord,
Thy mercy shall adore.
8 Through all eternity, to thee
A joyful song I'll raise;
For 'tis eternity alone
Can utter all thy praise.
129 Privileges of God's children.
LESSED are the sons of God,
They are bought with Christ's own blood,
They are ransom'd from the grave,
Life eternal they shall have:
God did love them in his Son,
Long before the world begun :
They the seal of this receive,
When on Jesus they believe.
2 They are justifi'd by grace,
They enjoy a solid peace:
All their sins are wash'd away,
They shall stand in God's great day:
They produce the fruits of grace
In the works of righteousness:
They are harmless, meek, and mild,
Holy, humble, undefil'd.
3 They are lights upon the earth,
Children of a heav'nly birth;
Born of God they hate all sin,
God's pure seed remains within;
They have fellowship with God,
Through the Mediator's blood;
One with God, with Jesus one,
Glory is in them begun.
4 Though they suffer much on earth,
Strangers quite to this world's mirth;
Yet they have an inward joy,
Pleasures that can never cloy;
They alone are truly blest,
Heirs of God, joint-heirs with Christ;
With them number'd may we be,
Here, and in eternity!
AR from these narrow scenes of night
Unbounded glories rise;
And realms of infinite delight,
Unknown to mortal eyes.
2 Far distant land!-could mortal eye,
But half its charms explore,
How would our spirits long to rise,
And dwell on earth no more!
3 There pain and sickness never come,
And grief no more complains;
Health triumphs in immortal bloom,
And endless pleasure reigns!
4 No cloud those blisful regions know,
For ever bright and fair!
For sin, the source of mortal woe,
Can never enter there.
5 There no alternate night is known,
Nor sun's faint sickly ray;
But glory from the sacred throne
Spreads everlasting day.
60 may the heav'nly prospect fire
Our hearts with ardent love,
Till wings of faith and strong desire
Bear ev'ry thought above.
ARK! how the heav'ns with praises ring!
From ev'ry ransom'd soul above,
Sweet songs of praise address their King;
Harmonious melting strains of love!
Each, with transporting ecstasy,
Sings," Jesus liv'd and dy'd for me."
2 That blessed One who fills the throne,
And shines with matchless splendour now;
Whom majesty and light adorn,
And seraphs at his footstool bow;
That glorious Jesus whom I see,
Stoop'd down to earth and dy'd for me.
3 'Tis he who fills all heav'n with joys,
And smiles eternal spring around;
Who ev'ry heav'nly mind employs,
And blesses all the happy ground;
Who came from heav'n my soul to free,
Bow'd his dear head, and dy'd for me.
O! how I love that glorious Lord,
Whose beauties charm my ravish'd heart; Worthy to be belov'd, ador'd,
Is he who bore, for me, such smart :
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