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The meanest subject of his grace
Shall to that glory rise.

5 Lord God of hosts! thy wondrous ways
Are sung by saints above;

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And saints on earth their honors raise
To thine unchanging love.

PSALM 89, Second Part, C. M.

BLES

A blessed Gospel.

LEST are the souls that hear and know
The gospel's joyful sound;

Peace shall attend the path they go,
And light their steps surround.

2 Their joy shall bear their spirits up,
Through their Redeemer's name;
His righteousness exalts their hope,
Nor Satan dares condemn.

3 The Lord, our glory and defence,
Strength and salvation gives;
Israel! thy King for ever reigns,
Thy God for ever lives.

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PSALM 89, Third Part, C. M.

Humble Worship.

saints appear,

WITH reverence let the saints

And bow before the Lord;

His high commands with reverence hear,
And tremble at his word.

2 How terrible thy glories be!

How bright thine armies shine!

Where is the power that vies with thee?
Or truth compared with thine?

3 The northern pole, and southern, rest
On thy supporting hand;

Darkness and day, from east to west,
Move round at thy command.

4 Thy words the raging winds control,
And rule the boisterous deep;

Thou mak'st the sleeping billows roll,
The rolling billows sleep.

5 Heaven, earth, and air, and sea are thine,
And the dark world of hell;

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How did thine arm in vengeance shine,
When Egypt durst rebel!

6 Justice and judgment are thy throne,
Yet wondrous is thy grace;

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While truth and mercy, joined in one,
Invite us near thy face.

PSALM 89, Fourth Part, C. M.
The Mercies of God.

THE mercies of my God and King
My tongue shall still pursue;
Oh! happy they who, while they sing
Those mercies, share them too.

2 As bright and lasting as the sun,
As lofty as the sky,

From age to age thy word shall run,
And chance and change defy.

3 The covenant of the King of kings
Shall stand for ever sure;
Beneath the shadow of thy wings,
Thy saints repose secure.

4 Thine is the earth, and thine the skies,
Created at thy will;

The waves at thy command arise,
At thy command are still.

5 In earth below, in heaven above,
Who-who is Lord like thee?
Oh! spread the gospel of thy love,
Till all thy glory see.

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PSALM 89, L. P. M.

Death and the Resurrection.

THINK, mighty God! on feeble man,-
How few his hours! how short his span!-.
Short from the cradle to the grave;

Who can secure his vital breath,
Against the bold demands of death,
With skill to fly, or power to save?
2 Lord shall it be for ever said,—
"The race of man was ever made
For sickness, sorrow, and the dust ?”

Are not thy servants, day by day,
Sent to their graves, and turned to clay?
Lord! where's thy kindness to the just?
3 Hast thou not promised to thy Son,
And all his seed, a heavenly crown?
But flesh and sense indulge despair:
For ever blesséd be the Lord,
That faith can read his holy word,
And find a resurrection there.

4 For ever blesséd be the Lord,
Who gives his saints a long reward,

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For all their toil, reproach, and pain:
Let all below, and all above,

Join to proclaim thy wondrous love,
And each repeat his loud-Amen.

PSALM 90, L. M.

Man mortal, and God eternal.

THROUGH

HROUGH every age, eternal God!
Thou art our rest, our safe abode;
High was thy throne, ere heaven was made.
Or earth thy humble footstool laid.

2 Long hadst thou reigned, ere time began,
Or dust was fashioned to a man;

And long thy kingdom shall endure,
When earth and time shall be no more.

3 But man, weak man, is born to die,
Made up of guilt and vanity;

Thy dreadful sentence, Lord! was just,-
Return, ye sinners! to your dust.".
4 Death, like an overflowing stream,
Sweeps us away; our life's a dream;
An empty tale; a morning flower,
Cut down and withered in an hour.

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PSALM 90, First Part, C. M.
God, the Help of the Saints.

GOD! our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home,-

2 Beneath the shadow of thy throne,
Thy saints have dwelt secure;

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Sufficient is thine arm alone,
And our defence is sure,

3 Before the hills in order stood,
Or earth received her frame;
From everlasting thou art God,—-
To endless year's the same.

4 Thy word commands our flesh to dust-
Return, ye sons of men!"

All nations rose from earth at first,
And turn to earth again.

5 O God! our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,

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Be thou our guard while troubles last,
And our eternal home.

PSALM 90, Second Part, C. M.

Breathing after Heaven.

RETURN,

ETURN, O God of love! return;
Earth is a tiresome place:

How long shall we, thy children, mourn
Our absence from thy face?

2 Let heaven succeed our painful years,
Let sin and sorrow cease;
And, in proportion to our tears,
So make our joys increase.

3 Thy wonders to thy servants show,
Make thine own work complete;
Then shall our souls thy glory know,
And own thy love was great.^

4 Then shall we shine before thy throne,
In all thy beauty, Lord!

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And the poor service we have done
Meet a divine reward.

PSALM 90, Third Part, C. M.

Preparation for Death.

LOR
ORD! if thine eye survey our faults,

And justice grow severe,

Thy dreadful wrath exceeds our thoughts,
And burns beyond our fear.

mf 2 Almighty God! reveal thy love,
And not thy wrath alone;

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Oh! let our sweet experience prove
The mercies of thy throne.

3 Our souls would learn the heavenly art,
T'improve the hours we have,
That we may act the wiser part,
And live beyond the grave.

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PSALM 90, S. M.

The Frailty and Shortness of Life.
ORD! what a feeble piece
Is this our mortal frame!

Our life-how poor a trifle 't is,
That scarce deserves the name!

2 Alas the brittle clay,

That built our body first!

And, every month, and every day,
'Tis mouldering back to dust.

3 Our moments fly apace,

Nor will our minutes stay;
Just like a flood, our hasty days
Are sweeping us away.

Well, if our days must fly,

We'll keep their end in sight
We 'll spend them all in wisdom's way,
And let them speed their flight.

mf 3 They'll waft us sooner o'er

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This life's tempestuous sea:

Soon we shall reach the peaceful shore
Of blest eternity.

WH

PSALM 90, 7s.

New-Year's Day.

HILE, with ceaseless course, the sun
Hasted through the former year,

Many souls their race have run,

Never more to meet us here:

Fixed in an eternal state,

They have done with all below;
We a little longer wait,

But how little,--none can know.

mf 2 As the wingéd arrow flies Speedily the mark to find;