Grace will complete what grace begins,
To save from sorrows or from sins:
The work that wisdom undertakes
Eternal mercy ne'er forsakes.
I'LL praise my Maker with my breath;
And when my voice is lost in death
Praise shall employ my nobler powers:
My days of praise shall ne'er be past,
While life, or thought, or being last,
Or immortality endures.
Happy the man whose hopes rely
On Israel's God: he made the sky,
And earth, and seas, with all their train;
His truth for ever stands secure;
He saves the opprest, he feeds the poor;
And none shall find his promise vain.
The Lord hath eyes to give the blind,
The Lord supports the sinking mind;
He sends the labouring conscience peace;
He helps the stranger in distress,
The widow and the fatherless,
And grants the prisoner sweet release.
He loves his saints, he knows them well, His love their joyful lips shall tell;
Thy God, O Zion, ever reigns :
Let every tongue, let every age,
In this exalted work engage;
Praise him in everlasting strains.
God the author of our comforts and hopes.
GREAT source of life, our souls confess The various riches of thy grace; Crown'd with thy mercy we rejoice, And in thy praise exalt our voice.
By thee heaven's shining arch was spread; By thee were earth's foundations laid; And all the charms of men's abode Proclaim the wise, the gracious God.
Thy tender hand restores our breath
When trembling on the verge of death;
Gently it wipes away our tears,
And lengthens life to future years.
Our lives are sacred to the Lord,
Kindled by him, by him restored;
And while our hours renew their race,
Still would we walk before his face.
So when by him our souls are led
Through unknown regions of the dead,
With joy triumphant shall they move
To seats of nobler life above.
ALMIGHTY author of my frame,
To thee my vital powers belong;
Thy praise, delightful, glorious theme!
Demands my heart, my life, my tongue.
My heart, my life, my tongue are thine :
O be thy praise their blest employ!
But may my song with angels join,
Nor sacred awe forbid the joy?
Thy glories, the seraphic lyre
On all its strings attempts in vain ;
Then how shall mortals dare aspire
In thought to try the unequal strain?
Yet the great sovereign of the skies
To mortals bends a gracious ear;
Nor the mean tribute will despise,
If offer'd with a heart sincere.
Great God, accept the humble praise,
And guide my heart and guide my tongue,
While to thy name I trembling raise
The grateful though unworthy song.
102. L. M. MRS. STEELE.
Frail man invited to praise his Maker.
GREAT King of kings, eternal God,
Shall mortal creatures dare to raise
Their songs to thy supreme abode,
And join with angels in thy praise?
The brightest seraph veils his face;
And low before thy dazzling throne
With prostrate homage all confess
Thou art the infinite unknown.
Man, ah how far removed below,
Wrapt in the shades of gloomy night:
His brightest day can only show
A few faint streaks of distant light.
But see the bright, the morning star!
His beams shall chase the shades away;
His beams, resplendent from afar,
Sweet promise of immortal day!
To him our longing eyes we raise,
Our guide to thee, the great unknown :
Through him, O may our humble praise
Accepted rise before thy throne!
SALISBURY COLLECTION.
Humble adoration.
HOLY, holy, holy Lord!
Be thy glorious name adored :
Lord, thy mercies never fail ;
Hail, cœlestial goodness, hail!
Though unworthy, Lord, thine ear,
Humble halleluias hear;
Purer praise we hope to bring
When around thy throne we sing.
There no tongue shall silent be;
All shall join in harmony;
And through heaven's all-spacious round
Praise to thee shall ever sound.
Lord, thy mercies never fail;
Hail, cœlestial goodness, hail!
Holy, holy, holy Lord!
Be thy glorious name adored.
YE that obey the immortal King,
Attend his holy place,
Bow to the glories of his power,
And bless his wondrous grace.
|