But from thy Throne thou shalt, O Lord, Their baffled Plots deride; And soon to scorn and shame expose Their boasted Heathen Pride.
On Thee I wait, 'tis on thy Strength For Succour I depend; 'Tis thou, O God, art my Defence, Who only canst defend;
Thy Mercy, Lord, which has so oft From Danger set me free, Shall crown my Wishes, and subdue My haughty Foes to me.
Destroy 'em not, O Lord, at once Restrain thy vengeful Blow, Lest we, ingratefully, too soon Forget their Overthrow. Disperse 'em thro' the nations round By thy avenging Pow'r,
Do thou bring down their haughty Pride O Lord, our Shield and Tow'r.
Now in the Height of all their Hopes, Their Arrogance chastise; Whose Tongues have sinn'd without Re- straint,
And Curses join'd with Lyes.
Nor shalt thou, whilst their Race endures,
Thine Anger, Lord, suppress; That distant Lands, by their just Doom May Isr'el's God confess.
At Ev'ning let them still persist Like Growling Dogs to meet, Still wander all the City round, And traverse ev'ry Street. Then, as for Malice now they do, For Hunger let them stray, And yell their vain Complaints aloud, Defeated of their Prey.
Whilst early I thy mercy sing,
Thy wond'rous Pow'r confess; For thou hast been my sure Defence, My Refuge in Distress. To thee with never-ceasing Praise, O God, my Strength, I'll sing;
Thou art my God, the Rock from whence My Health and Safety spring.
NAHUM TATE (1652-1715). NICHOLAS BRADY (1659-1726).
. LORD thou hast cast us off,
Hast broken us in twain,
Thou art the tower of my defence. The refuge where I hide.
Thou givest me the lot
Of those that fear thy name; If endless life be their reward, I shall possess the same. ISAAC WATTS (1674-1748).
My spirit looks to God alone; My rock and refuge is his throne; In all my fears, in all my straits, My soul on his salvation waits.
Trust him, ye saints, in all your ways, Pour out your hearts before his face: When helpers fade, and foes invade, God is our all-sufficient aid.
False are the men of high degree; The baser sort are vanity; Laid in the balance both appear Light as a puff of empty air.
Make not increasing gold your trust, Nor set your hearts on glittering dust; Why will you grasp the fleeting smoke, And not believe what God has spoke?
Once has his awful voice declared, Once and again my ears have heard: "All power is his eternal due; "He must be feared and trusted too."
For sovereign power reigns not alone; Grace is a partner of the throne: Thy grace and justice, mighty Lord, Shall well divide our last reward. ISAAC WATTS (1674-1748).
O GOD, thou art my only God, My Saviour and my King, Early thy face, O Lord, I seek,
Thy praise I strive to sing.
My fainting soul, when parched with
To thee looks up for aid;
My wearied flesh by barren lands
And drought is sore dismayed.
Thus have I sought my heavenly King In holiness to see;
Oh, let my soul confess thy power, And glory still in thee.
Far better than the life itself Thy kindness do I prize, My lips thy praises shall rehearse For ever on this wise.
For ever magnify my God,
And still record his fame, My hands while I have life, lift up In honour of his name.
Thus shall my soul be satisfied, Even as with daintiest meat, When I with joyful lips thy praise For evermore repeat.
O GOD! hear my complaint and prayer, And make my threatened life Thy care: O hide me from the secret league, The wicked masters of intrigue, Who whisper first, then speak aloud, Their treason to the noisy crowd.
Their tongue they sharpen as a sword; Their arrow fit (a bitter word) To shoot-naught fearing-th' upright, Shoot suddenly, concealed from sight. They strengthen their alicious plot; Lay snares, quite sure they seen are not.
Fine villainies, far-sought and nice, They count an exquisite device: "All things are ready now and ripe, We have him," say they, "in our gripe." But God has with a surer aim Shot them-the shooter made the game. Smitten they stumble; they are stung With their own sharp envenomed tongue.
They flee away, and every one That sees, admires what God has done. The righteous in the Lord shall trust; In Him shall triumph all the just.
SION'S true, glorious God! on thee Praise waits in all humility.
All flesh shall unto thee repair, To thee, O thou that hearest prayer! But sinful words and works still spread And overrun my heart and head; Transgressions make me foul each day; O purge them, purge them all away!
Happy is he whom thou wilt choose To serve thee in thy blessed house! Who in thy holy temple dwells, And filled with joy thy goodness tells! King of salvation! by strange things And terrible thy justice brings Man to his duty. Thou alone Art the world's hope, and but thee, none. Sailors that flote on flowing seas Stand firm by thee, and have sure peace. Thou still'st the loud waves, when most wild,
And mak'st the raging people mild. Thy arm did first the mountains lay, And girds their rocky heads this day. The most remote, who know not thee, At thy great works astonish'd be. The outgoings of the even and dawn, In antiphones sing to thy name: Thou vist'st the low earth, and then Water'st it for the sons of men; The upper river, which abounds With fertile streams, makes rich all grounds;
And, by thy mercies still supplied, The sower doth his bread provide. Thou water'st every ridge of land And settlest with thy secret hand The furrows of it; then thy warm And opening showers, restrained from harm,
Soften the mould, while all unseen The blade grows up alive and green. The year is with thy goodness crown'd, And all thy paths drop fatness round; They drop upon the wilderness,
For thou dost even the deserts bless, And hills all full of springing pride, Wear fresh adornments on each side. The fruitful flocks fill every dale, And purling corn doth cloathe the vale; They shout for joy, and joyntly sing, "Glory to the eternal King!"
HENRY VAUGHAN (1621-1695).
MAKE a joyful noise, ye nations, Say to God, how great art thou!
Through thy dreadful operations
Shall thy foes in terror bow: All the world shall sing acclaim, Shout the honors of thy name.
Come behold his works of wonder, Israel saw his mighty hand; When he reft the sea asunder,
They walked through on solid land; Earth lies naked to his sight, None may dare resist his might.
Bless our God in loudest chorus, Make the voice of praise be heard, Soul in life he holdeth for us,
Safety gives us through his word: Keeps our foot from being moved, When by sorest trials proved.
For as silver thou hast tried us,
Pressure on our loins hast laid; Caused ensnaring foes to guide us,
Riding proudly at our head: Through the fire and through the flood, Brought us to a rich abode.
To thy house with songs of gladness, Will I come and offerings make, Which my lips avowed in sadness,
Which my mouth in trouble spake: Bullocks, fatlings, goats and lambs, Incense with the blood of rams.
Hear me tell, who love my Saviour, What he's done to save my soul; With my mouth I sought his favor, With my tongue did him extol: If I have an ill design, God will not his ear incline.
But my God has surely heard me, Has attended to my voice; Blest be God whose mercies gird me, In his name will I rejoice: Who has not my prayer denied, Nor his grace for which I cried.
To bless thy chosen Race,
In Mercy, Lord, incline;
And cause the Brightness of thy Face On all thy Saints to shine;
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