« AnteriorContinuar »
May the dear pastor of the flock,
Preach the whole council of the Lord,
O let him see the hand of love,
And feel an unction all divine,
May all the blessings of a God,
Pastor and people all rejoice,
404. Watching for Souls.
LET Sion's watchmen all awake,
The pastor's care demands;
And what might fill an angel's heart,
They watch for souls, for which the Lord
In raptures, or in woe.
All to the great tribunal haste,
Th' account to render there;
And shouldst thou strictly mark our faults, Lord where should we appear?
May they, that Jesus whom they preach,
And watch thou daily o'er their souls,
405. At the Settlement of a Minister. L. M.
To all thy churches such impart,
Fed by their active tender care,
Here hast thou listen'd to our vows,
Completely heal each former stroke,
406. Christ's Care of Ministers and Churches. C. M.
WE bless th' eternal source of light,
We bless the church's sov'reign King,
Still be our purity preserv'd;
Then, while between our ranks he walks,
The people of his praise.
ADDRESS TO MINISTERS.
407. Missionaries addressed and encouraged.
YE Messengers of Christ,
His sov'reign voice obey;
And peace attend your way.
The master whom you serve Will needful strength bestow; Depending on his promis'd aid, With sacred courage go. Mountains shall sink to plains, And hell in vain oppose; The cause is God's, and must prevail, In spite of all his foes.
Go, spread a Saviour's fame; And tell his matchless grace To the most guilty and deprav'd Of Adam's num'rous race.
you, in his name,
The most divine success;
Assur'd that he who sends you forth
408. The Barren Fig-tree. 148th.
THE church a garden is
In which believers stand,
Planted by God's own hand:
But other trees there are,
Which, though they promise fair,
No fruits of grace are on them found,
In vain his strength he spends,
He hears the Lord his will make known,
How difficult his post,
What pangs his bowels move,
Spare them, and let me try
My digging I'll renew:
"Who knows but yet they fruit may yield?
No gracious fruits appear,
It is a dreadful case,
Though God may long forbear:
At length he'll strike the threat'ned blow, And lay the barren fig-tree low.
409. The Church is the Garden of God.
LORD, 'ti a pleasant thing to stand