Does he not hymn his God who pleads 8 Does he not incense thee who saves 9 Does he not sacrifice to thee, For faith and truth, an offering free, 10 Thy higher angels dwell in bliss, Who serves in blood and fight. 11 Arm, gracious God, this champion arm, Sustain him with thy hand; With persevering ardour warm, And bid him bravely stand. 12 High is thine hand, and strong thine helm, 13 The powers of hell and earth combine For thy just cause, O lend him thine, 14 Behold with zeal for thee he glows, For all who love thy name. 15 Angels themselves by him outdone, Burns with a fainter fire. 16 From this hard warfare to thy praise, And wrapt in his own proper blaze, THE BIBLE. 1 THE Lord instructs us by his works, 2 To hear him in the thunder speak, To see him in the heavenly lights— 3 All these express him to our souls, Yet to our stupid souls by these 4 In pity to our want of thought, Descends, and in the speech of men Draws near, our minds to teach; 5 In lisping language, as to babes, O how to human sense it bends! 6 He came not to a splendid court, He speaks not in a pompous style 7 Poor are the writings of mankind, 8 Here sentiments, divinely great, In common words bespeak the God, 9 What countless terrors here at guilt 10 We burn, we freeze, we joy, we grieve, Almost on every page; Sensation here to passion swells, There, wrath at sin, to rage; 11 At my own sins, I only mean, 12 This book of God in light feveals 13 How it enkindles faith and hope, How lifts the soul above this life! 14 How in the harden'd conscience works How teaches the old man to die, 15 Ab, how our melted hearts in tears And feeling, fly to the relief Of anguish and distress! 16 Whence, o'er the heart this wondrous power, Tho' destitute of art? "Tis God himself indites the book, That God, who made the heart. 17 In this, thy book, we thee embrace, Here kindling at thy goodness, Lord, 18 How trembling at that awful day, 19 How we transporting hopes ercet 20 How we the Saviour meet and hear, How we the dove descending see, 21 How, Lord, we know thee, and ourselves, We, who in utter darkness sat, 22 In every clause we see a lamp, Which teacheth us thro' nature's gloom, 23 From Ceylon's or Amboyna's fields 24 From Eden's richly loaded trees 25 The winged chymist never stor'd As these, which pouring from thy page, 26 Thy book we therefore warmly seize, This, living, dying, to our hearts, 27 Farewel, thou world of sin and fear, 28 To thee, bless'd volume, we resort, Which can engage, reclaim, instruct, 29 In thee my God, vouchsafes to speak A wayward, but a willing child; 1 Ho, drink thou dry and thirsty soul, 2 Ho, all that hunger, let them fly! 3 Come all who love a costly treat, 4 Come every hungry soul, and taste, Bought with his life and blood. 5 Archangels never had been fed In heaven no table hath been spread, |