Lift up your hands by morning light,
And send your souls on high;
Raise your admiring thoughts by night
Above the starry sky.
The God of Zion cheers our hearts
With rays of quickening grace;
The God that spreads the heavens abroad,
And rules the swelling seas.
105. C. M. WATTS.
God hearing prayer.
LET every tongue thy goodness speak,
Thou sovereign Lord of all;
Thy strengthening hands uphold the weak,
And raise the poor that fall.
When sorrow bows the spirit down,
Or virtue lies distrest
Beneath some proud oppressor's frown,
Thou giv'st the mourners rest.
The Lord supports our tottering days,
And guides our giddy youth:
Holy and just are all his ways,
And all his words are truth.
He knows the pain his servants feel,
He hears his children cry,
And their best wishes to fulfill
His grace is ever nigh.
His mercy never will remove
From men of heart sincere ;
He saves the souls whose humble love
Is join'd with holy fear.
How shall my mortal powers aspire
To soar above this barren clod?
How join on earth the heavenly quire,
And hymn my Saviour and my God?
Can his transcendent grandeur bow
To hear a feeble creature's praise?
Can I propitiate, with my vow,
"The Ancient of Eternal Days?"
Yet what, but his Almighty power,
Could first from dust and ashes bring
My humblest longings to adore
The heaven and earth's all-glorious King?
Would his supreme perfections shine,
Though veil'd, yet radiant, to my sight,
Were nought but sin and sorrow mine,
And my last refuge endless night?
Stretch then, my soul, the adventurous wing;
And dare to hope, and love, and praise.
The God who prompts thy voice to sing,
Confirms thy hopes, and claims thy lays.
Thy love, a spark of heavenly fire,
His grace will raise, and still refine,
Till certainty absorbs desire,
And "heaven's eternal year is thine."
107. P. M. J. TAYLOR. Thanksgiving for fruitful seasons.
REJOICE! the Lord is king!
Your Lord and king adore;
Mortals, give thanks and sing,
And triumph evermore :
up your hearts, lift up your voice, Rejoice, in sacred lays rejoice.
His wintry north-winds blow,
Loud tempests rush amain;
Yet his thick showers of snow
Defend the infant grain:
Lift up your hearts, lift up your voice,
Rejoice, in sacred lays rejoice.
He wakes the genial spring,
Perfumes the balmy air;
The vales their tribute bring,
The promise of the year:
Lift up your hearts, lift
Rejoice, in sacred lays rejoice.
High from the æthereal plain
Bright suns their influence fling;
He gives the welcome rain
That makes the valleys sing:
Lift up your hearts, lift up your voice, Rejoice, in sacred lays rejoice.
He leads the circling year,
His flocks the hills adorn;
He fills the golden ear,
And loads the fields with corn:
O happy mortals, raise your voice,
Rejoice, in sacred lays rejoice.
Lead on your fleeting train,
Ye years, and months, and days!
O bring the eternal reign
Of love and joy and praise:
Lift up your hearts, lift up your voice,
Rejoice, in sacred lays rejoice.
108. C. M. WATTS.
The husbandman's psalm.
GOOD is the Lord, the heavenly king,
Who makes the earth his care,
Visits the pastures every spring,
And bids the grass appear.
The clouds, like rivers rais'd on high, Pour out at his command
Their watery blessings from the sky, To cheer the thirsty land.
The soften'd ridges of the field
Permit the corn to spring:
The valleys rich provision yield,
And the poor labourers sing.
The little hills on every side
Rejoice at falling showers:
The meadows, drest in all their pride,
Perfume the air with flowers.
The barren clods, refresh'd with rain,
Promise a joyful crop ;
The parching grounds look green again,
And raise the reaper's hope.
The various months his goodness crowns;
How bounteous are his ways!
The bleating flocks spread o'er the downs,
And shepherds shout his praise.
109. C. M. WATTS.
The goodness of God in the seasons.
'Tis by thy strength the mountains stand, God of eternal power;
The sea grows calm at thy command,
And tempests cease to roar.
The morning light and evening shade
Successive comforts bring;
Thy plenteous fruits make harvest glad,
Thy flowers adorn the spring.
|