Beneath the proud oppressor's frown,
Thou giv'st the mourner rest.

3 Thou know'st the pains thy servants feel;
Thou hear'st thy children's cry;
And their best wishes to fulfil,
Thy grace is ever nigh.

4 Thy mercy never shall remove
From men of heart sincere:

Thou sav'st the souls whose humble love
Is join'd with holy fear.

5 My lips shall dwell upon thy praise,
And spread thy fame abroad;

Let all the sons of Adam raise
The honours of their God.

TH

Hymn 155. L. M.

1 HE spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue etherial sky,

And spangled heav'ns (a shining frame
Their great Original proclaim;
Th' unwearied sun from day to day
Doth his Creator's pow'r display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty hand.

2 Soon as the ev'ning shades prevail
The moon takes up the wond'rous tale,
And nightly to the list'ning earth
Repeats the story of her birth:

While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,

And spread the truth from pole to pole.

3 What though in solemn silence, all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball;
What though no real voice nor sound
Amid the radiant orbs be found;
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever singing as they shine,
"The hand that made us is divine."

Hymn 156. P. M.

HE voice of my Beloved sounds, While o'er the mountain-top he bounds; He flies exulting o'er the hills, And all my soul with transport fills: Gently doth he chide my stay, "Rise, my love, and come away." 2 The scatter'd clouds are fled at last, The rain is gone, the winter's past, The lovely vernal flowers appear, The warbling choir enchants our ear: Now with sweetly pensive moan, Coos the turtle-dove alone.

Hymn 157. C. M.

Fow high thy wonders rise!

ATHER, how wide thy glories shine!

Known thro' the earth by thousand signs:
By thousands through the skies:
Those mighty orbs proclaim thy power;
Their motions speak thy skill:

And on the wings of every hour
We read thy patience still.

G

2 Part of thy name divinely stands,
On all thy creatures writ,
They show the labour of thy hands,
Or impress of thy feet;

But when we view thy strange design
To save rebellious worms,

Where vengeance and compassion join
In their divinest forms:

3 Here the whole Deity is known,
Nor dares a creature guess
Which of the glories brightest shone,
The justice or the grace:
Now the full glories of the Lamb
Adorn the heavenly plains:
Bright seraphs learn Immanuel's name,
And try their choicest strains.

4 O may I bear some humble part
In that immortal song!

Wonder and joy shall tune my heart,
And love command my tongue.
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Who sweetly all agree

To save a world of sinners lost,
Eternal glories be.

Hymn 158. P. M.

3 LL praise my Maker while I've breath, And when my voice is lost in death, Praise shall employ my nobler powers: My days of praise shall ne'er be past, While life, and thought, and being last, Or immortality endures.

2 Happy the man whose hopes rely On Israel's God; he made the sky,

And earth, and seas, with all their train: His truth for ever stands secure! He saves th' oppress'd he feeds the poor, And none shall find his promise vain. 3 The Lord pours eye-sight on the blind; The Lord supports the fainting mind; He sends the lab'ring conscience peace; He helps the stranger in distress, The widow and the fatherless,

And grants the pris'ner sweet release. 4 I'll praise him while he lends me breath, And when my voice is lost in death,

Praise shall employ my nobler powers; My days of praise shall ne'er be past, While life, and thought, and being last, Or immortality endures.

Hymn 159. L. M.

PR

RAISE ye the Lord! 'tis good to raise
Your hearts and voices in his praise:

His nature and his works invite

To make this duty our delight.

2 He form'd the stars, those heavenly flames;
He counts their numbers, calls their names;
His wisdom's vast, and knows no bound,
A deep where all our thoughts are drown'd.
3 Sing to the Lord, exalt him high,
Who spreads his clouds around the sky;
There he prepares the fruitful rain,
Nor lets the drops descend in vain.

4 He makes the grass the hills adorn;
He clothes the smiling fields with corn:
The beasts with food his hands supply,
And the young ravens when they cry.
5 What is the creature's skill or force,
The sprightly man, or warlike horse?
The piercing wit, the active limb,
Are all too mean delights for him.

6 But saints are lovely in his sight,
He views his children with delight!
He sees their hope, he knows their fear;
He looks, and loves his image there.

Hymn 160. L. M.

BEFORE Jehovah's awful throne,

Ye nations bow with sacred joy;
Know that the Lord is God alone,
He can create, and he destroy.

2 His sov'reign power without our aid,
Made us of clay and form'd us men!
And when like wand'ring sheep we stray'd
He brought us to his fold again.

3 We'll crowd thy gates with thankful song
High as the heavens our voices raise:
And earth with her ten thousand tongues,
Shall fill thy courts with sounding prais
4 Wide as the world is thy command;
Vast as eternity thy love;

Firm as a rock thy truth must stand,
When rolling years shall cease to move