CXXXIII. 11, 8. Description of Christ. THOU in whose presence my soul takes delight, On whom in affliction I call; My comfort by day, and my song in the night, My hope, my salvation, my all Where dost thou at noon-tide resort with thy sheep, To feed on the pastures of love? For why in the valley of death should I weep; Or alone in the wilderness rove ? 2 O why should I wander an alien from thee, And cry in the desert for bread? Thy foes will rejoice when my sorrows they see; And smile at the tears I have shed. Ye daughters of Zion, declare, have ye seen The star that on Israel shone? Say, if in your tents my beloved has been, And where with his flocks he is gone? 3 This is my beloved, his form is divine, His vestments shed odours around: The locks on his head, are as grapes on the vine, When autumn with plenty is crown'd. The roses of Sharon, the lilies that grow, In the vales, on the banks of the streams, On his cheeks, in the beauty of excellence blow And his eyes are as quivers of beams! 4 His voice as the sound of the dulcimer sweet, Is heard through the shadows of death; The cedars of Lebanan bow at his fect, From which their salvation the Gentiles shall know, And bask in the smiles of his face. Love sits in his eye-lids, and scatters delight Through all the bright mansions on high; Their faces the cherubim veil in his sight, And tremble with fulness of joy. He looks, and ten thousands of angels rejoice, And myriads wait for his word: He speaks-and eternity, fill'd with his voice, CXXXIV. S. M. WATTS, 1OME, we that love the Lord, 2 The sorrows of the mind Be banish'd from this place: • Let those refuse to sing That never knew our God, 4 [The God that rules on high, That rides upon the stormy sky, 5 This awful God is ours, Our Father and our love: He shall send down his heav'nly pow'rs 6 There shall we see his face, And never, never sin; There from the rivers of his grace 7 Yes, and before we rise To that immortal state, The thoughts of such amazing bliss 8 [The men of grace have found Celestial fruits on earthly ground, 9 [The hill of Zion yields A thousand sacred sweets, 10 Then let our songs abound, We're marching through Immanuel's ground, To fairer worlds on high.] CXXXV. L. M. WATTS. A sight of God crucifies us to the world. ГР TP to the fields where angels lie, And living waters gently roll, Fain would my thoughts leap out and fly, Thy wondrous O might I o And move and charm the starry plains, 4 Jesus, the Lord, their harps employs; 6 And now they sink the lofty tune, 7 O sacred beauties of the Man! His flesh all pure, without a stain; 3 But, when to Calvary they turn, s a moment mourn ce, to living strains he mount and join their song, an angel too! t, my hand, my ear, my tongue, s joyful work for you. ld begin the music here, |