Isaac Watts Short Poems
Famous Short Isaac Watts Poems. Short poetry by famous poet Isaac Watts. A collection of the all-time best Isaac Watts short poems
by
Isaac Watts
How doth the little busy Bee
Improve each shining Hour,
And gather Honey all the day
From every opening Flower!
How skilfully she builds her Cell!
How neat she spreads the Wax!
And labours hard to store it well
With the sweet Food she makes.
In Works of Labour or of Skill
I would be busy too:
For Satan finds some Mischief still
For idle Hands to do.
In Books, or Work, or healthful Play
Let my first Years be past,
That I may give for every Day
Some good Account at last.
by
Isaac Watts
Praise to God from all nations.
O all ye nations, praise the Lord,
Each with a diff'rent tongue;
In every language learn his word,
And let his name be sung.
His mercy reigns through every land;
Proclaim his grace abroad;
For ever firm his truth shall stand
Praise ye the faithful God.
by
Isaac Watts
Saints in the hands of Christ
Jn.
10:28,29.
Firm as the earth thy gospel stands,
My Lord, my hope, my trust;
If I am found in Jesus' hands,
My soul can ne'er be lost.
His honor is engaged to save
The meanest of his sheep;
All that his heav'nly Father gave
His hands securely keep.
Nor death nor hell shall e'er remove
His favorites from his breast;
In the dear bosom of his love
They must for ever rest.
by
Isaac Watts
Joy in heaven for a repenting sinner.
Luke 15:7,10.
Who can describe the joys that rise
Through all the courts of Paradise,
To see a prodigal return,
To see an heir of glory born?
With joy the Father doth approve
The fruit of his eternal love;
The Son with joy looks down and sees
The purchase of his agonies.
The Spirit takes delight to view
The holy soul he formed anew;
And saints and angels join to sing,
The growing empire of their King.
by
Isaac Watts
Humility and submission.
Is there ambition in my heart?.
Search, gracious God, and see;
Or do I act a haughty part?
Lord, I appeal to thee.
I charge my thoughts, be humble still,
And all my carriage mild,
Content, my Father, with thy will,
And quiet as a child.
The patient soul, the lowly mind,
Shall have a large reward:
Let saints in sorrow lie resigned,
And trust a faithful Lord.
by
Isaac Watts
Believers buried with Christ in baptism.
Rom.
6:3,4,etc.
Do we not know that solemn word,
That we are buried with the Lord,
Baptized into his death, and then
Put off the body of our sin?
Our souls receive diviner breath,
Raised from corruption, guilt, and death;
So from the grave did Christ arise,
And lives to God above the skies.
No more let sin or Satan reign
Over our mortal flesh again;
The various lusts we served before
Shall have dominion now no more.
by
Isaac Watts
v.
1,2
C.
M.
Assistance and victory in the spiritual warfare.
For ever blessed be the Lord,
My Savior and my shield;
He sends his Spirit with his word,
To arm me for the field.
When sin and hell their force unite,
He makes my soul his care,
Instructs me to the heav'nly fight,
And guards me through the war.
A friend and helper so divine
Does my weak courage raise;
He makes the glorious vict'ry mine,
And his shall be the praise.
by
Isaac Watts
Dead to sin by the cross of Christ.
Rom.
6:1,2,6.
Shall we go on to sin
Because thy grace abounds;
Or crucify the Lord again,
And open all his wounds?
Forbid it, mighty God!
Nor let it e'er be said,
That we whose sins are crucified
Should raise them from the dead.
We will be slaves no more,
Since Christ has made us free;
Has nailed our tyrants to his cross,
And bought our liberty.
by
Isaac Watts
Sickness healed, and sorrow removed.
I Will extol thee, Lord, on high,
At thy command diseases fly:
Who but a God can speak and save
From the dark borders of the grave?
Sing to the Lord, ye saints of his,
And tell how large his goodness is;
Let all your powers rejoice and bless
While you record his holiness.
His anger but a moment stays;
His love is life and length of days;
Though grief and tears the night employ,
The morning star restores the joy.
by
Isaac Watts
Daily and nightly devotion.
Ye that obey th' immortal King,
Attend his holy place;
Bow to the glories of his power,
And bless his wondrous grace.
Lift up your hands by morning light,
And send your souls on high;
Raise your admiring thoughts by night
Above the starry sky.
The God of Zion cheers our hearts
With rays of quick'ning grace;
The God that spread the heav'ns abroad,
And rules the swelling seas.
by
Isaac Watts
Christ unseen and beloved.
1 Pet.
1:5.
Now with our mortal eyes
Have we beheld the Lord;
Yet we rejoice to hear his name,
And love him in his word.
On earth we want the sight
Of our Redeemer's face;
Yet, Lord, our inmost thoughts delight
To dwell upon thy grace.
And when we taste thy love,
Our joys divinely grow
Unspeakable, like those above,
And heav'n begins below.
by
Isaac Watts
v.
6-9
L.
M.
Christ's incarnation.
The Lord is come; the heav'ns proclaim
His birth; the nations learn his name;
An unknown star directs the road
Of eastern sages to their God.
All ye bright armies of the skies,
Go, worship where the Savior lies;
Angels and kings before him bow,
Those gods on high and gods below.
Let idols totter to the ground,
And their own worshippers confound
But Judah shout, but Zion sing,
And earth confess her sovereign King.
by
Isaac Watts
Praise for the gospel.
To our Almighty Maker, God,
New honors be addressed;
His great salvation shines abroad,
And makes the nations blest.
He spake the word to Abraham first;
His truth fulfils the grace;
The Gentiles make his name their trust,
And learn his righteousness.
Let the whole earth his love proclaim
With all her diff'rent tongues,
And spread the honors of his name
In melody and songs.
by
Isaac Watts
Babylon fallen.
Rev.
18:20,21.
In Gabriel's hand a mighty stone
Lies, a fair type of Babylon:
"Prophets, rejoice, and all ye saints,
God shall avenge your long complaints.
"
He said, and dreadful as he stood,
He sunk the millstone in the flood:
"Thus terribly shall Babel fall,
Thus, and no more be found at all.
"
by
Isaac Watts
v.
3-6
C.
M.
The vanity of man and condescension of God.
Lord, what is man, poor feeble man,
Born of the earth at first?
His life a shadow, light and vain,
Still hasting to the dust.
O what is feeble, dying man,
Or any of his race,
That God should make it his concern
To visit him with grace?
That God who darts his lightnings down,
Who shakes the worlds above,
And mountains tremble at his frown,
How wondrous is his love!
by
Isaac Watts
v.
15ff
C.
M.
A blessed gospel.
Blest are the souls that hear and know
The gospel's joyful sound;
Peace shall attend the path they go,
And light their steps surround.
Their joy shall bear their spirits up
Through their Redeemer's name;
His righteousness exalts their hope,
Nor Satan dares condemn.
The Lord, our glory and defence,
Strength and salvation gives;
Isr'el, thy King for ever reigns,
Thy God for ever lives.
by
Isaac Watts
Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord.
Rev.
14:13.
Hear what the voice from heav'n proclaims,
For all the pious dead;
Sweet is the savor of their names,
And soft their sleeping bed.
They die in Jesus, and are blest;
How kind their slumbers are!
From suff'rings and from sins released,
And freed from every snare.
Far from this world of toil and strife,
They're present with the Lord;
The labors of their mortal life
End in a large reward.
by
Isaac Watts
A song for morning or evening.
Lam.
3:23; Isa.
45:7.
God, how endless is thy love!
Thy gifts are every evening new;
And morning mercies from above
Gently distill like early dew.
Thou spread'st the curtains of the night,
Great guardian of my sleeping hours;
Thy sovereign word restores the light,
And quickens all my drowsy powers.
I yield my powers to thy command,
To thee I consecrate my days;
Perpetual blessings from thine hand
Demand perpetual songs of praise.
by
Isaac Watts
v.
1,2,6
C.
M.
A song of praise.
In God's own house pronounce his praise,
His grace he there reveals;
To heav'n your joy and wonder raise,
For there his glory dwells.
Let all your sacred passions move,
While you rehearse his deeds;
But the great work of saving love
Your highest praise exceeds.
All that have motion, life, and breath,
Proclaim your Maker blest;
Yet, when my voice expires in death,
My soul shall praise him best.
by
Isaac Watts
Stones made children of Abraham.
Matt.
3:9.
Vain are the hopes that rebels place
Upon their birth and blood,
Descended from a pious race;
Their fathers now with God.
He from the caves of earth and hell
Can take the hardest stones,
And fill the house of Abram well
With new-created sons.
Such wondrous power doth he possess
Who formed our mortal frame,
Who called the world from emptiness,
The world obeyed and came.