390
L. M.

Scott. The Fear of God. 1 GREAT Author of all nature's frame,

Holy and reverend is thy name;
Against thee who shall lift his hand ?

Before thy terrors who can stand ?
2 But blest are they, O gracious Lord,

Who fear thy name, and keep thy word; Thy wisdom guides, thy power defends

Their life, till life its journey ends. 3 O that my soul, with awful sense

Of thy transcendent excellence,
May close the day, the day begin,

Watchful against each darling sin. 4 Never, O never from my heart,

May this great principle depart,
But act, with unabating power,
Within me to my latest hour!

391

C. M.

EXETER COL. Fortitude founded on godly Fear. 1 BLEST is the man who fears the Lord;

His well-established mind,
In every varying scene of life,

Shall true composure find.
2 Oft through the deep and stormy sea

The heavenly footsteps lie;
But on a glorious world beyond

His faith can fix its eye.

3 Though dark his present prospects be,

And sorrows round him dwell,
Yet hope can whisper to his soul,

That all shall issue well.
4 Full in the presence of his God,

Through every scene he goes,
And, fearing him, no other fear

His steadfast bosom knows.

392
C. M.

WATTS. Submission to afflictioe Providences. 1 NAKED as from the earth we came,

And crept to life at first,
We to the earth return again,

And mingle with our dust.
2 The dear delights we here enjoy,

And fondly call our own,
Are but short favors, borrowed now

To be repaid anon.
3 'Tis God that lifts our comforts high,

Or sinks them in the grave;
He gives, and, -blessed be his name!

He takes but what he gave.
4 Peace, all our angry passions, then;

Let each rebellious sigh
Be silent at his sovereign will,

And every murmur die.
5 If smiling mercy crown our lives,

Its praises shall be spread,
And we'll adore the justice, too,

That strikes our comforts dead.

393

L. M.

DODDRIDGE.

Fortitude and Trust.

1 WAIT on the Lord, ye heirs of hope,

And let his word support your souls ; Well can he bear your courage up,

And all your foes and fears control. 2 He waits his own well-chosen hour,

The intended mercy to display ; His fatherly compassion moves,

While wisdom dictates the delay.
3 Blest are the humble souls, that wait

With sweet submission to his will;
Harmonious all their passions mov

And in the midst of storms are still ;-
4 Still, till their Father's well-known voice

Wakens their silence into songs;
Then earth grows vocal with his praise,

And heaven the grateful shout prolongs.

394
C. M.

J. TAYLOR.
Trust in God through all Changes.
1 FATHER divine, before thy view

All worlds, all creatures lie ;
No distance can elude thy search,

No action 'scape thy eye.
2 From thee our vital breath we drew;

Our childhood was thy care ;
And vigorous youth and feeble age

Thy kind protection share.

3 Whate'er we do, where'er we turn,

Thy ceaseless bounty flows; Oppressed with woe, when nature faints,

Thine arm is our repose. 4 To thee we look, thou Power supreme !

0, still our wants supply! Safe in thy presence may we live,

And in thy favor die.

395
C. M.

DODDRIDGE. Trusting in God. 1 PRAISE to the Sovereign of the sky,

Who, from his lofty throne,
Looks down on all that humble lie,

And calls such souls his own. 2 The haughty sinner he disdains,

Though gems his temples crown;
And from the seat of pomp and pride

His vengeance hurls him down. 3 On his afflicted, pious poor

He makes his face to shine ;
He fills their cottages of clay

With lustre all divine.
4 Among the meanest of thy flock

There let my dwelling be,
Rather than under gilded roofs,

If absent, Lord, from thee.
5 Poor and afflicted though we are,

In thy strong name we trust,
And bless the hand of sovereign love,
Which lifts us from the dust.

396
C. M.

DARWIN. Trust in God in Prosperity and Adversity. 1 THE Lord — how tender is his love!

His justice, how august!
Hence, all her fears my soul derives,

There, anchors all her trust.

2 He showers the manna from above,

To feed the barren waste,
Or points with death the fiery hail,

And famine waits the blast.

3 He bids distress forget to groan, —

The sick from anguish cease ;
In dungeons spreads his healing wing,

And softly whispers peace.
4 His power directs the rushing wind,

Or tips the bolt with flame;
His goodness breathes in every breeze,

And warms in every beam. 5 For me, O Lord, whatever lot

The hours commissioned bring, Do all my withering blessings die,

Or fairer clusters spring, 6 O, grant that still, with grateful heart,

My years resigned may run: 'Tis thine to give, or to resume ;

And may thy will be done.

314