Sin-offering! Guilt imputed dooms,— Burnt-offering! Hate of sin consumes,Peace-offering! Endless strife it stays,— Thank-offering! Ground of endless praise! Oh, not the flowers of innocence Each Claim and Attribute agree! Father! Who gav'st that bitter cup! VERSIONS OF THE PSALMS. HOW SHALL WE SING THE LORD'S SONG IN A STRANGE LAND?" PSALM THE FIRST. THERE is a scale of downward ill;- Where soon expires the last remorse. He who shall shun this prone descent The law divine he scans intent, And muses o'er it day and night. He stands a tree 'mid sylvan glades, Not so the ungodly; worthless, seared, Severed from all the just, they fly! Thus flames of wrath his foes consume! PSALM THE SECOND. LOUD the defiance, fierce the rage, Though vain the dream, of impious states, With myriad-force and battle-gage, Marshalled by sceptred potentates. Why to this contest will ye rush? "T is Heaven's own cause! Its highest claim! That all should honour Christ the Son! Their bands, Their cords, are still the same,— Peer with his Father,-They are one! He who in glory sits serene Enthroned upon the sea of glass, He speaks! and baffles all His foes,— Writhing sore vexed beneath his feet,"Mean impotents! Can ye depose My King from His anointed seat ?” "Thou art my Son!" Jehovah saith! Now breaks Thy Natal, Crowning, Day! First-fruits of dust! First-born of death! Now wield Thy Mediatorial sway! (To whom of all the angel-throng, Was this dread kindred e'er addressed,— Since first they woke to life and song, Or round earth's Saviour wondering pressed ?*) *Heb. i. 5. "Thou art my Son,"-The only Line! Take for inheritance the earth! "Thou art my Son," My all is Thine, The rightful treasures of Thy Birth! The sceptre of Thy hand shall smite O just decree,-ye princes rise, Confess His claims, receive His words, Be ye instructed, O be wise, He's King of kings, and Lord of lords. Kiss Him! Embracings of the heart, How blessed do all, who trust him, prove! PSALM THE NINETEENTH. JEHOVAH'S glory brightly streams Where suns and planets sweep their march,— Blent yet diffused, as are the beams They scatter round this azure arch. Day, like a herald, lifts its shout,— Night, silent monitress, holds out Her scroll and all its skill expounds! Onward from earth, through all those spheres, Peals deep and long the echoing line, Wherever human home appears, Wherever gleams celestial sign! Amidst that infinite recess, The sun has found its hall of gold,- Who can escape its searching ray? But I would sing a Greater Light So Thine anointed envoys flew With every speech of earth baptised,Nor vain their flight,-first Israel knew, Then nations foolish and despised.* How far excels Thy Written Law Of rich, and sweet, the costliest hoard ! Its salutary cautions awe! In keeping it is great reward! His errors who can understand? His conscious and unconscious sin? Presumptuous, great, would be this zest To make Thy Works and Words my themes, Did not my hope most firmly rest On Him who strengthens and redeems! Rom. x. 18, 19. |