6 Then cease, fond nature! cease thy tears; Religion points on high;
There everlasting spring appears,
And joys which cannot die.
Christian patience, consolation, and bope.
S there no kind, no lenient art,
To heal the anguish of the heart?
To ease the heavy load of care,
Which nature must, but cannot bear?
2 Can reason's dictates be obey'd?
Too weak, alas, her strongest aid!
O let religion then be nigh,
Her consolations never die.
3 Her pow'rful aid supports the soul,
And nature owns her kind control;
While she unfolds the sacred page,
Our fiercest griefs resign their rage.
4 Then gentle patience smiles on pain,
And dying hope revives again;
Hope wipes the tear from sorrow's eye,
And faith points upward to the sky.
5 The promise guides her ardent flight,
And joys unknown to sense invite,
Those blissful regions to explore,
Where pleasure blooms to fade no more.
Hymn for a vacant congregation on the death of its
ET our dejected hearts revive,
And all our tears be dry:
Why should those eyes be drown'd in tears,
Which view a father nigh?
Though earthly shepherds dwell in dust,
The aged and the young;
The watchful eye in darkness clos'd,
And mute th' instructive tongue :
3 Th' eternal shepherd still survives,
New comfort to impart;
His eye still guides us, and his voice
Still animates our heart.
4 To him, when mortal comforts fail,
His suppliant people fly;
And on th' eternal shepherd's care
With cheerful hope rely.
5 The pow'rs of nature, LORD, are thine;
And thine the aids of grace:
Thine arm has borne thy churches up,
Through ev'ry rising race.
6 Exert thy sacred influence here,
Thy mourning servants bless:
change to strains of cheerful praise
Their accents of distress!
675. L.M. DODDRIDGE.
At the settlement of a religious society.
REAT LORD of angels! we adore
The grace that builds thy courts be-
And 'midst ten thousand sons of light
Stoops to regard what mortals do.
2 Amidst the wastes of time and death
Successive pastors thou dost raise,
Thy kindom and thy truth to spread,
And form a people for thy praise.
3 At length, dismiss'd from feeble clay,
Thy servants join th' angelic band;
With them thro' distant worlds they fly,
With them before thy presence stand.
4 O blest employ! O glorious hope!
Sweet lenitive of grief and care!
When shall we reach those radiant courts, And all their joys and honours share? 5 Yet while these labours we pursue, Tho' distant from thy heav'nly throne, Give us a zeal and love like theirs, And half their heav'n shall here be known.
676. L.M. DODDRIDGE.
On opening a new place of worship.
ND will the great eternal GoD
On earth establish his abode?
And will he, from his radiant throne,
Regard our temples as his own?
Our father's watchful care we bless,
Which guards our house of pray'r in peace,
That no tumultuous foes invade,
To fill the worshippers with dread.
These walls we to thy honour raise ;
Long may they echo to thy praise;
And thou, descending, fill the place
With choicest tokens of thy grace.
And in the great decisive day,
When God the nations shall survey,
May it before the world appear,
That crowds were born to glory here.
677. C. M. DODDRIDGE.
On occasion of a dreadful fire.
ETERNAL GOD! our humbl'd souls
Before thy presence bow:
With all thy magazines of wrath,
How terrible art thou!
Fann'd by thy breath, whole sheets of flame
Like a wild deluge pour;
And all our confidence of wealth
Lies moulder'd in an hour.
Led on by thee in horrid pomp,
Destruction rears its head;
And blacken'd walls, and smoking heaps, Through all the streets are spread.
4 LORD, in the dust we lay us down,
And mourn thy righteous ire;
Yet bless the hand of guardian love,
That snatch'd us from the fire.
s O may we view, with steadfast eyes,
The last tremendous day,
When earth and seas, and stars and skies, In flames shall melt away.
678. L.M. WATTS.
The mariner's hymn of praise.
TOULD you behold the works of GOD,
His wonders in the world abroad,
Go with the mariners, and trace
The unknown regions of the seas.
2 They leave their native shores behind,
And seize the favour of the wind,
Till GOD commands, and tempests rise,
That heave the ocean to the skies.
3 When land is far, and death is nigh,
Lost to all hope, to GoD they cry:
His mercy hears their loud address,
And sends salvation in distress.
4 He bids the winds their wrath assuage;
The furious waves forget their rage:
'Tis calm; and sailors smile to see
The haven where they wish'd to be.
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may the sons of men record
The wondrous goodness of the LORD!
Let them their grateful off'rings bring,
And in the church his glory sing.
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