God's charge against formal Worshippers.
1 MY people! hear the LORD your King;
JEHOVAH is My Name;
A charge of awful guilt I'll bring,
I'll testify your shame:
2 "Tis not of off'rings I complain ;-
Your slaughter'd lambs I've seen:
Your thousand bullocks, daily slain,
Have not accepted been.
3 Shall I a goat or bullock sue,
Vain worshipper! from thee,
When, on the thousands hills I view,
The flocks belong to Me?
4 All Nature moves beneath My feet,-
And dost thou vainly think,
That I the flesh of bulls should eat?
Or, blood of goats should drink?
5 No-my complaint against thee lies,
That while these rites were paid,
"Twas all a formal sacrifice;
No heart it's off'ring made.
6 But offer now thanksgiving; pay
Thy vows to GOD Most High;
Call, in the dark and troublous day,
And I'll regard thy cry.
God's charge against formal Worshippers. 1 HEAR, My people! Israel, hear Me, While thy follies I
I am GOD! let Israel fear Me:
I'm thy GOD! let Israel love:
I'll accuse thee;
Why from Me thy heart remove?
2 I'll not blame thy sacrifices,
Wanting from the sacred fire:
Forms abundant man devises;
Forms cannot to Me aspire:
I'll no off'ring
From thy diff'rent herds require.
3 Mine the beasts through forests roving, Flocks o'er thousand hills that stray, Fowls the mountain's summit loving, Beasts for food, or beasts of prey: My creation,
Known to Me, My Word obey.
High o'er all, in glory reigning,
If to hunger I incline,
Shall I visit thee, complaining,
When the World itself is Mine?
Blood of goats, or flesh of kine?
5 Thanks are My best sacrifices,
Vows perform'd to GOD Most High:
In the day when trouble rises,
To My throne direct thy cry;
I'll deliver:
Thou My Name shalt glorify.
1 THE LORD, the Judge, His churches warns ;. Let hypocrites attend and fear,
Who place their hope in rites and forms,
But make not faith nor love their care.
2 Vile wretches dare rehearse His Name
With lips of falsehood and deceit ;
A friend or brother they defame,
And sooth and flatter those they hate.
3 They watch to do their neighbours wrong;
Yet dare to seek their Maker's face:
They take His cov'nant on their tongue,
But break His laws, abuse His grace.
4 To Heaven they lift their hands unclean, Defil'd with lust, defil'd with blood; By night they practise every sin,
By day their mouths draw near to God.
5 And while His judgments long delay,
They grow secure, and sin the more;
They think He sleeps as well as they,
And put far off the dreadful day.
6 O dreadful hour! when GOD draws near,
And sets their crimes before their eyes!
His wrath their guilty souls shall tear,
And no deliv'rer dare to rise.
1 SHEW pity, LORD! O LORD, forgive;
Let & repenting rebel live:
Are not Thy mercies large and free?
May not a sinner trust in Thee?
2 My crimes are great, but not surpass
The power and glory of Thy grace:
Great GOD! Thy nature hath no bound,
So let Thy pardoning love be found!
3 O wash my soul from every sin,
And make my guilty conscience clean:
Here on my heart the burden lies,
And past offences pain my eyes.
4 My lips with shame my sins confess
Against Thy law, against Thy grace:
LORD, should Thy judgment grow severe,
I am condemn'd, but Thou art clear.
5 Should sudden vengeance seize my breath,
I must pronounce Thee just in death;
And if my soul were sent to Hell,
Thy righteous law approves it well.
6 Yet save a trembling sinner, LORD!
Whose hope, still hovering round Thy Word, Would light on some sweet promise there, Some sure support against despair.
Original and Actual Sin confessed.
1 LORD, I am vile, conceiv'd in sin,
And born unholy and unclean;
Sprung from the man whose guilty fall
Corrupts the race, and taints us all.
2 Soon as we draw our infant breath,
The seeds of sin grow up for death:
Thy law demands a perfect heart,
But we're defiled in ev'ry part.
3 [Great GOD! create my heart anew,
And form my spirit pure and true;
O! make me wise betimes to spy
My danger and my remedy.]
4 Behold! I fall before Thy face;
My only refuge is Thy grace:
No outward forms can make me clean;
The leprosy lies deep within.
5 No bleeding bird, nor bleeding beast,
Nor hyssop branch, nor sprinkling priest,
Nor running brook, nor flood, nor sea,
Can wash the dismal stain away.
6 JESUS, my GOD! Thy blood alone
Hath power sufficient to atone :
Now, let me hear Thy pardoning voice,
And make my broken bones rejoice.
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