354

C. M.

J. Q. ADAMS.

Ps. 6.

1 O HEAL me, Lord, for I am weak;
My bones are vexed with pain;
Let not thy hot displeasure speak;
Thy burning wrath restrain.
My soul what sore vexations try!
How long shall they assail?
Return, and listen to my cry;
Let mercy, Lord, prevail.

2 of thee no memory remains
In death's relentless cave;
To thee ascend no grateful strains
Of glory from the grave:
With ceaseless pain I groan and weep,
So cruel are my foes;

My very couch in tears I steep,
My bed with grief o'erflows.

3 Depart from me, all who rejoice
Iniquity to share ;

The Lord hath heard my moaning voice,
And listened to my prayer;
What though my foes despise the Lord,
And my destruction plot?

Vexation shall be their reward,

And sudden shame their lot.

285

355

C. M.

TATE & BRADY.

The Soul thirsting for God. Ps. 42.

1 AS pants the hart for cooling streams,
When heated in the chase,

So longs my soul, O God, for thee,
And thy refreshing grace.

2 For thee, my God, the living God,
My thirsty soul doth pine;
O, when shall I behold thy face,
Thou majesty divine?

3 I sigh, whene'er my musing thoughts
Those happy days present,
When I, with troops of pious friends,
Thy temple did frequent ;-

4. When I advanced with songs of praise,
My solemn vows to pay,
And led the joyful, sacred throng,
That kept the festal day.

5 One trouble calls another on,
And, bursting o'er my head,

Falls spouting down, till round my soul
A roaring sea is spread.

6 But when thy presence, Lord of life,
Has once dispelled this storm,

To thee I'll midnight anthems sing,
And all my vows perform.

7 Why restless, why cast down, my soul?
Hope still; and thou shalt sing
The praise of him who is thy God,
Thy health's eternal Spring.

The Soul panting for God. Ps. 42.
1 AS the hart, with eager looks,
Panteth for the water-brooks,
So my soul, athirst for thee,
Pants the living God to see;
When, O, when, with filial fear,
Lord, shall I to thee draw near?

MONTGOMERY.

2 Why art thou cast down, my soul?
God, thy God, shall make thee whole;
Why art thou disquieted?

God shall lift thy fallen head,
And his countenance benign
Be the saving health of thine.

357

S. M.

FURNESS.

"As the Hart panteth after the Water-brooks, so panteth my Soul

after thee, O God." Ps. 42.

1 HERE is a world of doubt,

A sorrowful abode;

O, how my heart and flesh crv out
For thee, the living God!.

2 As for the water-brooks

The hart, expiring, pants,
So for my God my spirit looks,
Yea, for his presence faints.

3 I know thy joys, O earth,

The sweetness of thy cup;
Oft have I mingled in thy mirt,
And trusted in thy hope.

4 But, ah, how woes and fears
Those hollow joys succeed!

That cup of mirth is mixed with tears,
That hope is but a reed.

5 What have I then below,

Or what but thee on high?

Thee, thee, O Father, would I know,
And in thee live and die!

1 O FOR a closer walk with God,
A calm and heavenly frame,

A light to shine upon the road
That leads me to the Lamb!

2 Where is the blessedness I knew
When first I saw the Lord?
Where is the soul-refreshing view
Of Jesus and his word?

COWPER.

3 What peaceful hours I once enjoyed!
How sweet their memory still!
But they have left an aching void
The world can never fill.

4 Return, O holy Dove, return,
Sweet messenger of rest!

I hate the sins that made thee mourn,
And drove thee from my breast.

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1 THE heavens invite mine eye;
The stars salute me round;
Father, I blush, I mourn, to lie
Thus groveling on the ground.

2 My warmer spirits move,

And make attempts to fly;
I wish aloud for wings of love
To raise me swift and high,
3 Beyond those crystal vaults,

WATTS.

And all their sparkling balls;
They're but the porches to thy courts,
And paintings on thy walls.

4 Vain world, farewell to you;
Heaven is my native air;
I bid my friends a short adieu,
Impatient to be there.

360

L. M.

WATTS.

A Sight of God mortifies us to the World.

1 UP to the fields where angels lie, And living waters gently roll,

Fain would my thoughts leap out and fly, But sin hangs heavy on my soul.

2 Had I a glance of thee, my God, Kingdoms and men would vanish soon,Vanish as though I saw them not,

As a dim candle dies at noon.