The Psalms and Hymns of the Late Dr. Isaac Watts, 1 tomas

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Francis Westley, 1821

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369 psl. - JL'LL praise my Maker with my breath ; And when my voice is lost in death Praise shall employ my nobler powers : My days of praise shall ne'er be past While life, and thought, and being last, Or immortality endures.
352 psl. - My thoughts, before they are my own, Are to my God distinctly known ; He knows the words I mean to speak, Ere from my opening lips they break. 3 Within thy circling power I stand ; On every side I find thy hand : Awake, asleep, at home, abroad, I am surrounded still with God.
303 psl. - HOW shall the young secure their hearts, And guard their lives from sin ? Thy word the choicest rules imparts, To keep the conscience clean. 2 When once it enters to the mind, It spreads such light abroad, The meanest souls instruction find, And raise their thoughts to God.
209 psl. - LORD of the worlds above, How pleasant and how fair The dwellings of thy love, Thine earthly temples, are ! To thine abode My heart aspires With warm desires To see my God. 2...
339 psl. - BLEST are the sons of peace, Whose hearts and hopes are one ; Whose kind designs to serve and please Through all their actions run. 2 Blest is the pious house Where zeal and friendship meet ; Their songs of praise, their mingled vows, Make their communion sweet.
69 psl. - And full salvation flows. 3 If e'er I go astray, He doth my soul reclaim ; And guides me in His own right way, For His most holy name. 4 While He affords His aid, I cannot yield to fear ; Though I should walk through death's dark shade, My Shepherd's with me there.
20 psl. - I'll give mine eyes to sleep; Thy hand in safety keeps my days, And will my slumbers keep. PSALM 5. Common Metre. For the Lord's-day Morning. 1 JLuORD, in the morning thou shalt hear My voice ascending high; To thee will I direct my prayer, To thee lift up mine eye...
120 psl. - GOD is the refuge of his saints, When storms of sharp distress invade ; Ere we can offer our complaints, Behold him present with his aid. 2 Let mountains from their seats be hurled Down to the deep, and buried there ; Convulsions shake the solid world, Our faith shall never yield to fear.
349 psl. - Wonders of grace to God belong; Repeat his mercies in your song.
375 psl. - The shining worlds above In glorious order stand, Or in swift courses move By his supreme command : He spake the word, And all their frame From nothing came To praise the Lord.

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