Puslapio vaizdai

And to our wond'ring view reveal
The secret love of God.

"Tis thine to cleanse the heart,
To sanctify the soul,

To pour fresh life on ev'ry part,
And new create the whole.

If thou, celestial Dove,

Thine influence withdraw,
What easy victims soon we fall
To conscience, wrath, and law!
No longer burns our love,
Our faith and patience fail,
Our sin revives, and death and hell
Our feeble souls assail.

Dwell, therefore, in our hearts;
Our minds from bondage free;
Then shall we know, and praise, and love,
The Father, Son, and Thee.

179. A Prayer for the Spirit.

Now may the Spirit's holy fire,
Descending from above,
His waiting family inspire

With joy, and peace, and love!
Thee we the Comforter confess;
Unless thou'rt present here,
Our songs of praise are vain address,
We utter heartless pray'r.

"Wake, heav'nly wind, arise, and come, Blow on the drooping field;

Our spices then shall breathe perfume,
And fragrant incense yield.
Touch with a living coal the lip

That shall proclaim thy word;
And bid each awful hearer keep
Attention to the Lord.

180. Prayer to the Spirit. DESCEND from heav'n, immortal Dove!. Stoop down, and take us on thy wings, And bear our spirits far above

The reach of earth's inferior things. O for a sight, a pleasing sight,

Of our Almighty Father's throne!
There sits our Saviour, crown'd with light,
Cloth'd with a body like our own.
Adoring saints around him stand,
And angel pow'rs before him fall;
The God shines gracious through the man,
And sheds sweet glories on them all.
may we reach that blessed place
Where he his beauties does unfold!
Where we shall see him face to face,
And sing his name to harps of gold!

181. The witnessing Spirit.
WHY should the children of a King
Go mourning all their days?
Great Comforter, descend and bring,
Some tokens of thy grace.

Dost thou not dwell in all the saints,
And seal the heirs of heav'n ?
When wilt thou banish my complaints,
And shew my sins forgiv'n?
Assure my conscience of her part
In the Redeemer's blood;
And bear thy witness with my heart
That I am born of God.

Thou art the earnest of his love,
The pledge of joys to come;
And thy soft wings, celestial Dove,
Will safe convey me home.




WAIT, O my soul, thy Maker's will,
Tumultuous passions, all be still!
Nor let a murmuring thought arise,
His ways are just, his councils wise.
He in the thickest darkness dwells,
Performs his works, the cause conceals;
But tho' his methods are unknown,
Judgment and truth support his throne.
In heav'n, and earth, and air, and seas,
He executes his firm decrees;

And by his saints it stands confest,
That what he does, is ever best.
Wait then, my soul, submissive wait,
Prostrate before his awful seat;
And 'midst the terrors of his rod
Trust in a wise and gracious God.


Creation and Providence.

Look up, ye saints, direct your eyes
To him who dwells above the skies;
With your glad notes his praise rehearse
Who form'd the mighty universe.

He spoke, and from the womb of night
At once sprang up the cheering light!
Him discord heard, and at his nod
Beauty awoke, and spoke the God.
The word he gave, th' obedient sun
Began his glorious race to run;
Nor silver moon, nor stars, delay
To glide along th' ethereal way.
Teeming with life, air, earth, and sea,
Obey th' Almighty's high decree!
To ev'ry tribe he gives their food,
Then speaks the whole divinely good.
But to complete the wondrous plan,
From earth and dust he fashions man ;
In man the last, in him the best,
The Maker's image stands confest,
Lord, while thy glorious works I view,
Form thou my heart and soul anew;

Here bid thy purest light to shine,
And beauty glow with charms divine.

184. Creation and Providence. LORD, when our raptur'd thought surveys Creation's beauties o'er,

All nature joins to teach thy praise,
And bid our souls adore.

Where'er we turn our gazing eyes
Thy radiant footsteps shine;
Ten thousand pleasing wonders rise,
And speak their source divine.
The living tribes, of countless forms,
In earth, and sea, and air,

The meanest flies, the smallest worms,
Almighty pow'r declare.

Thy wisdom, pow'r, and goodness, Lord,
In all thy works appear:

And, O! let man thy praise record,
Man, thy distinguish'd care!

From thee the breath of life he drew;
That breath thy pow'r maintains;
Thy tender mercy, ever new,

His brittle frame sustains.

Yet nobler favours claim his praise,
Of reason's light possess'd,
By revelation's brightest rays
Still more divinely bless'd.

Thy providence his constant guard,
When threat'ning woes impend,

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