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4 Tears the strong pillars of the vault of heaven, Breaks up old marble, the repose of princes; While the dread summons thunders through death's caverns,

"Come all to judgment."

5 See the sky parting, and the Judge descending! Now let our praises all arise to Jesus;

How he sits God-like! and the saints around

him

Thron'd, yet adoring.

6 O may I sit there when he comes triumphant, Dooming the nations! then ascend to glory, While our hosannas all along the passage Shout the Redeemer !

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I

HYMN CXII.

Inconstancy.

WATTS' LYRICS.

LOVE the Lord; but ah! how far
My thoughts from the dear object are!

This wanton heart, how wide it roves!
And fancy meets a thousand loves.

2 If my soul burn to see my God,
I tread the courts of his abode ;
But troops of rivals throng the place,
And tempt me off before his face.

3 Would I enjoy my Lord alone,
I bid my passions all begone,
All but my love; and charge my will
To bar the door and guard it still,

4 But cares or trifles, make or find
Still new approaches to the mind;
Till I with grief and wonder see
Huge crowds betwixt the Lord and me.
5 This foolish heart can leave it's God,
And shadows tempt it's thoughts abroad:
How shall I fix this wandering mind?
Or throw my fetters on the wind?
6 Look gently down, almighty grace,
Prison me round in thine embrace;
Pity the soul this would be thine,
And let thy power my love confine?
HYMN CXIII.

Forsaken yet hoping.

WATTS' LYRICS.

1 HAPPY the hours the golden days.
When I could call my Jesus mine,

And sit, and view his smiling face,
And melt in pleasures all divine.

4 But now he's gone (O mighty woe!)
Gone from my soul and hides his love!
I hate the sins that griev'd him so,
The sins that forc'd him to remove!

3 Yet let my hope look through my tears,
And spy afar his rolling throne,

His chariot through the cleaving spheres
Shall bring the bright Beloved down.
4 Swift as a roe flies o'er the hills

My soul springs out to meet him high:
Then shall the conqueror turn his wheels
And climb the mansions of the sky.

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HYMN CXIV.

God seen in his Works.

Y God I love, and I adore:

MY

WATTS' MISCEL.

But souls that love would know thee more;

Wilt thou for ever hide, and stand
Behind the labours of thy hand?
2 Thy hand unseen sustains the poles
On which this huge creation rolls;
In thousand shapes and colours rise
Thy works to our admiring eyes.
3 The meanest pin in nature's frame,

Marks out some letter of thy name;
Where sense can reach, or fancy rove,
From hill to hill, from field to grove;
4 Across the waves, around the sky,
There's not a spot, or deep, or high,
Where the Creator has not trod
And left the footstep of a God.

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HYMN CXV.

Searching after God.

WATTS' MISCEL.

HOU máker of my vital frame,

THO

Unveil thy face, pronounce thy name,

Shine to my sight, and let the ear

Which thou hast form'd, thy language hear; Divide ye clouds, and let me see

The power that gives me leave to be,

2 Where is thy residence? Oh, why
Dost thou avoid my searching eye?
Mysterious Being! great unknown,
Say, do the clouds conceal thy throne?
Or art thou all diffus'd abroad,
Thro' boundless space, a present God?

3 Is there not some delightful art,
To feel thy presence at my heart?
To hear thy whispers, soft and kind,
In holy silence of the mind?

Then rest my thoughts; no longer roam,
In quest of joy-for heaven's at home!

HYMN CXVI.

Aspiring after God, or longing for Heaven.

How

WATTS' MISCEL.

OW shall my soul her powers extend,
Beyond where time and nature end,
To reach those heights, thy blest abode,
And meet thy kindest smiles, my God?
Father, I wait thy gracious call
Pronounce the word, my life, my all!

2 Oh, for a wing to bear me far,
Beyond the golden morning star!
Fain would I trace th' immortal way,
That leads to courts of endless day;
Where the Creator stands confess'd
In his own fairest glories dress'd.

3 Some shining spirit help me rise!
Come, waft a stranger through the skies!
First offspring of th' eternal God!
Blest Jesus! meet me on the road:
Thy hand shall lead a younger son,
And place me near my Father's throne!

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HYMN CXVII.

The Eternal Majesty, or Divine Judgments.

ВЕНОЕ

WATTS' MISCEL

EHOLD the God! th' immortal king,
Rides on a tempest's furious wing:

His ensigns lighten round the sky,
And moving legions sound on high!
2 Ten thousand cherub's wait his course,
Chariots of fire, and flaming horse;
Earth trembles; and her mountains flow,
At his approach like melting snow.

3 But who these frowns of wrath can draw,
That strike heaven, earth, and hell, with awe?
Red lightnings from his eyelids broke,,
His voice was thunder, hail, and smoke.

4 He spake the cleaving waters fled,
And stars beheld the ocean's bed;
Before the terrors of his ire,
Swift the astonish'd floods retire.

5 In heaps the frighted billows stand,
And wait the signal of his hand;
He leads his Israel through the sea,
And watery mountains guard their way.

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