Written by
Isaac Watts |
The privileges of the living above the dead.
Isa.
38:18,19.
Awake, my zeal; awake, my love,
To serve my Savior here below,
In works which perfect saints above
And holy angels cannot do.
Awake, my charity, to feed
The hungry soul, and clothe the poor;
In heav'n are found no sons of need,
There all these duties are no more.
Subdue thy passions, O my soul!
Maintain the fight, thy work pursue,
Daily thy rising sins control,
And be thy vict'ries ever new.
The land of triumph lies on high,
There are no foes t' encounter there;
Lord, I would conquer till I die,
And finish all the glorious war.
Let every flying hour confess
I gain thy gospel fresh renown;
And when my life and labors cease,
May I possess the promised crown!
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Written by
Isaac Watts |
The promises of the covenant of grace.
Isa.
55:1,2; Zech.
13:1; Mic.
7:19; Ezek.
36:25, etc.
In vain we lavish out our lives
To gather empty wind;
The choicest blessings earth can yield
Will starve a hungry mind.
Come, and the Lord shall feed our souls
With more substantial meat,
With such as saints in glory love,
With such as angels eat.
Our God will every want supply,
And fill our hearts with peace;
He gives by cov'nant and by oath
The riches of his grace.
Come, and he'll cleanse our spotted souls,
And wash away our stains
In the dear fountain that his Son
Poured from his dying veins.
[Our guilt shall vanish all away,
Though black as hell before;
Our sins shall sink beneath the sea,
And shall be found no more.
And, lest pollution should o'erspread
Our inward powers again,
His Spirit shall bedew our souls,
Like purifying rain.
]
Our heart, that flinty, stubborn thing,
That terrors cannot move,
That fears no threat'nings of his wrath,
Shall be dissolved by love.
Or he can take the flint away
That would not be refined;
And from the treasures of his grace
Bestow a softer mind.
There shall his sacred Spirit dwell,
And deep engrave his law,
And every motion of our souls
To swift obedience draw.
Thus will he pour salvation down,
And we shall render praise;
We the dear people of his love,
And he our God of grace.
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Written by
Edgar Lee Masters |
Doc Meyers said I had satyriasis,
And Doc Hill called it leucaemia --
But I know what brought me here:
I was sixty-four but strong as a man
Of thirty-five or forty.
And it wasn't writing a letter a day,
And it wasn't late hours seven nights a week,
And it wasn't the strain of thinking of Minnie,
And it wasn't fear or a jealous dread,
Or the endless task of trying to fathom
Her wonderful mind, or sympathy
For the wretched life she led
With her first and second husband --
It was none of these that laid me low --
But the clamor of daughters and threats of sons,
And the sneers and curses of all my kin
Right up to the day I sneaked to Peoria
And married Minnie in spite of them --
And why do you wonder my will was made
For the best and purest of women?
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Written by
Isaac Watts |
The ruin of the Antichrist.
Isa.
63:4-7.
"I lift my banner," saith the Lord,
"Where Antichrist has stood;
The city of my gospel foes
Shall be a field of blood.
"My heart has studied just revenge,
And now the day appears;
The day of my redeemed is come
To wipe away their tears.
"Quite weary is my patience grown,
And bids my fury go;
Swift as the lightning it shall move,
And be as fatal too.
"I call for helpers, but in vain;
Then has my gospel none?
Well, mine own arm has might enough
To crush my foes alone.
"Slaughter and my devouring sword
Shall walk the streets around,
Babel shall reel beneath my stroke,
And stagger to the ground.
"
Thy honors, O victorious King!
Thine own right hand shall raise,
While we thy awful vengeance sing,
And our deliv'rer praise.
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Written by
Isaac Watts |
Hezekiah's song; or, Sickness and recovery.
Isa.
38:9ff.
When we are raised from deep distress,
Our God deserves a song;
We take the pattern of our praise
From Hezekiah's tongue.
The gates of the devouring grave
Are opened wide in vain,
If he that holds the keys of death
Commands them fast again.
Pains of the flesh are wont t' abuse
Our minds with slavish fears:
"Our days are past, and we shall lose
The remnant of our years.
"
We chatter with a swallow's voice,
Or like a dove we mourn,
With bitterness instead of joys,
Afflicted and forlorn.
Jehovah speaks the healing word,
And no disease withstands;
Fevers and plagues obey the Lord,
And fly at his commands.
If half the strings of life should break,
He can our frame restore;
He casts our sins behind his back,
And they are found no more.
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Written by
Isaac Watts |
The blessedness of gospel times.
Isa.
52:2,7-10; Mt.
13:16,17.
How beauteous are their feet
Who stand on Zion's hill!
Who bring salvation on their tongues,
And words of peace reveal!
How charming is their voice!
How sweet the tidings are!
"Zion, behold thy Savior King;
He reigns and triumphs here.
"
How happy are our ears
That hear this joyful sound,
Which kings and prophets waited for,
And sought, but never found!
How blessed are our eyes
That see this heav'nly light
Prophets and kings desired it long,
But died without the sight.
The watchmen join their voice,
And tuneful notes employ;
Jerusalem breaks forth in songs,
And deserts learn the joy.
The Lord makes bare his arm
Through all the earth abroad;
Let every nation now behold
Their Savior and their God!
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Written by
Isaac Watts |
Salvation, righteousness, and strength in Christ.
Isa.
45:21-25.
Jehovah speaks! let Isr'el hear;
Let all the earth rejoice and fear,
While God's eternal Son proclaims
His sovereign honors and his names.
"I am the last, and I the first,
The Savior God, and God the just;
There's none beside pretends to show
Such justice and salvation too.
["Ye that in shades of darkness dwell,
Just on the verge of death and hell,
Look up to me from distant lands;
Light, life, and heav'n are in my hands.
"I by my holy name have sworn,
Nor shall the word in vain return;
To me shall all things bend the knee,
And every tongue shall swear to me.
]
"In me alone shall men confess
Lies all their strength and righteousness;
But such as dare despise my name,
I'll clothe them with eternal shame.
"In me, the Lord, shall all the seed
Of Isr'el from their sins be freed;
And by their shining graces prove
Their int'rest in my pard'ning love.
"
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Written by
Isaac Watts |
The Humiliation and exaltation of Christ.
Isa.
53:1-5,10-12.
Who has believed thy word,
Or thy salvation known?
Reveal thine arm, Almighty Lord,
And glorify thy Son.
The Jews esteemed him here
Too mean for their belief;
Sorrows his chief acquaintance were,
And his companion, grief.
They turned their eyes away,
And treated him with scorn;
But 'twas their grief upon him lay,
Their sorrows he has borne.
'Twas for the stubborn Jews,
And Gentiles then unknown,
The God of justice pleased to bruise
His best-beloved Son.
"But I'll prolong his days,
And make his kingdom stand;
My pleasure," saith the God of grace,
"Shall prosper in his hand.
"
["His joyful soul shall see
The purchase of his pain
And by his knowledge justify
The guilty sons of men.
]
["Ten thousand captive slaves,
Released from death and sin,
Shall quit their prisons and their graves
And own his power divine.
]
["Heav'n shall advance my Son
To joys that earth denied;
Who saw the follies men had done,
And bore their sins, and died.
"
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Written by
Isaac Watts |
The invitation of the gospel.
Isa.
55:1,2,etc.
Let every mortal ear attend,
And every heart rejoice;
The trumpet of the gospel sounds
With an inviting voice.
Lo! all ye hungry, starving souls.
That feed upon the wind,
And vainly strive with earthly toys
To fill an empty mind.
Eternal Wisdom has prepared
A soul-reviving feast,
And bids your longing appetites
The rich provision taste.
Ho! ye that pant for living streams,
And pine away and die,
here you may quench your raging thirst
With springs that never dry.
Rivers of love and mercy here
In a rich ocean join;
Salvation in abundance flows,
Like floods of milk and wine.
[Ye perishing and naked poor,
Who work with mighty pain
To weave a garment of your own
That will not hide your sin,
Come naked, and adorn your souls
In robes prepared by God,
Wrought by the labors of his Son,
And dyed in his own blood.
]
Dear God! the treasures of thy love
Are everlasting mines,
Deep as our helpless miseries are,
And boundless as our sins.
The happy gates of gospel grace
Stand open night and day;
Lord, we are come to seek supplies,
And drive our wants away.
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Written by
Isaac Watts |
The Son of God incarnate.
Isa.
9:2,6,7.
The lands that long in darkness lay
Now have beheld a heav'nly light;
Nations that sat in death's cold shade
Are blessed with beams divinely bright.
The virgin's promised Son is born,
Behold th' expected child appear:
What shall his names or titles be?
"The Wonderful, the Counsellor.
"
[This infant is the mighty God,
Come to be suckled and adored;
Th' eternal Father, Prince of Peace,
The Son of David, and his Lord.
]
The government of earth and seas
Upon his shoulders shall be laid;
His wide dominions still increase,
And honors to his name be paid.
Jesus, the holy child, shall sit
High on his father David's throne;
Shall crush his foes beneath his feet,
And reign to ages yet unknown.
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