Hymn 2:42

My God, what endless pleasures dwell Above at thy right-hand! The courts below, how amiable, Where all thy graces stand!

The swallow near thy temple lies, And chirps a cheerful note; The lark mounts upward to thy skies, And tunes her warbling throat:

And we, when in thy presence, Lord, We shout with joyful tongues, Or sitting round our Father's board, We crown the feast with songs.

While Jesus shines with quickening grace, We sing and mount on high; But if a frown becloud his face, We faint, and tire, and die.

[Just as we see the lonesome dove Bemoan her widow'd state, Wandering she flies thro' all the grove, And mourns her loving mate.

Just so our thoughts from thing to thing In restless circles rove, Just so we drop, and hang the wing, When Jesus hides his love.]

Hymn 2:43. Christ's sufferings and glory.

Now for a tune of lofty praise To great Jehovah's equal Son! Awake, my voice, in heavenly lays, Tell the loud wonders he hath done.

Sing how he left the worlds of light And the bright robes he wore above, How swift and joyful was his flight On wings of everlasting love.

Down to this base, this sinful earth He came to raise our nature high; He came t' atone almighty wrath; Jesus the God was born to die.]

[Hell and its lions roar'd around, His precious blood the monsters spilt, While weighty sorrows press'd him down, Large as the loads of all our guilt.]

Deep in the shades of gloomy death Th' almighty Captive pris'ner lay; Th' almighty Captive left the earth, And rose to everlasting day.

Lift up your eyes, ye sons of light, Up to his throne of shining grace, See what immortal glories sit Round the sweet beauties of his face.

Amongst a thousand harps and songs Jesus the God exalted reigns, His sacred Name fills all their tongues And echoes thro' the heavenly plains!

Hymn 2:44. Hell; or, The vengeance of God.

With holy fear and humble song, The dreadful God our souls adore; Reverence and awe becomes the tongue That speaks the terrors of his power.

Far in the deep where darkness dwells, The land of horror and despair, Justice has built a dismal hell, And laid her stores of vengeance there.

[Eternal plagues and heavy chains, Tormenting racks and fiery coals, And darts t' inflict immortal pains, Dy'd in the blood of damned souls.]

[There Satan the first sinner lies, And roars, and bites his iron bands; In vain the rebel strives to rise, Crush'd with the weight of both thine hands.]

There guilty ghosts of Adam's race Shriek out, and howl beneath thy rod; Once they could scorn a Saviour's grace, But they incens'd a dreadful God.

Tremble, my soul, and kiss the Son; Sinners, obey the Saviour's call; Else your damnation hastens on, And hell gapes wide to wait your fall.

Hymn 2:45. God's condescension to our worship.

Thy favours Lord, surprise our souls; Will the Eternal dwell with us? What canst thou find beneath the poles To tempt thy chariot downward thus?

Still might he fill his starry throne, And please his ears with Gabriel's songs; But th' heavenly Majesty comes down, And bows to hearken to our tongues.

Great God, what poor returns we pay For love so infinite as thine! Words are but air, and tongues but clay, But thy compassion's all divine.

Hymn 2:46. God's condescension to human affairs.

Up to the Lord that reigns on high, And views the nations from afar, Let everlasting praises fly, And tell how large his bounties are.

[He that can shake the worlds he made, Or with his word, or with his rod, His goodness how amazing great! And what a condescending God!]

[God that must stoop to view the skies, And how to see what angels do, Down to our earth he casts his eyes, And bends his footsteps downward too.]

He over-rules all mortal things, And manages our mean affairs; On humble souls the King of kings Bestows his counsels and his cares.

Our sorrows and our tears we pour Into the bosom of our God, He hears us in the mournful hour, And helps us bear the heavy load.

In vain might lofty princes try Such condescension to perform; For worms were never rais'd so high Above their meanest fellow-worm.

O could our thankful hearts devise A tribute equal to thy grace, To the third heaven our songs should rise, And teach the golden harps thy praise.

Hymn 2:47. Glory and grace in the person of Christ.

Now to the Lord a noble song! Awake, my soul, awake, my tongue; Hosanna to th' eternal Name, And all his boundless love proclaim.

See where it shines in Jesus' face, The brightest image of his grace; God, in the person of his Son, Has all his mightiest works outdone.

The spacious earth and spreading flood Proclaim the wise, the powerful God; And thy rich glories from afar Sparkle in every rolling star.

But in his looks a glory stands, The noblest labour of thine hands: The pleasing lustre of his eyes Outshines the wonders of the skies.

Grace, 'tis a sweet, a charming theme; My thoughts rejoice at Jesus' name: Ye angels, dwell upon the sound, Ye heavens, reflect it to the ground!

O, may I live to reach the place Where he unveils his lovely face, Where all his beauties you behold, And sing his Name to harps of gold!

Hymn 2:48. Love to the creatures is dangerous.

How vain are all things here below! How false, and yet how fair! Each pleasure hath its poison too, And every sweet a snare.

The brightest things below the sky Give but a flattering light; We should suspect some danger nigh Where we possess delight.

Our dearest joys, and nearest friends, The partners of our blood, How they divide our wavering minds, And leave but half for God!

The fondness of a creature's love, How strong it strikes the sense! Thither the warm affections move, Nor can we call them thence.

Dear Saviour, let thy beauties be My soul's eternal food; And grace command my heart away From all created good.

Hymn 2:49. Moses dying in the embraces of God.

Death cannot make our souls afraid If God be with us there; We may walk thro' her darkest shade, And never yield to fear.

I could renounce my all below, If my Creator bid, And run, if I were call'd to go, And die as Moses did.

Might I but climb to Pisgah's top, And view the promis'd land, My flesh itself shall long to drop, And pray for the command.

Clasp'd in my heavenly Father's arms I would forget my breath, And lose my life among the charms Of so divine a death.

Hymn 2:50. Comfort under sorrows and pains.

Now let the Lord my Saviour smile, And shew my name upon his heart, I would forget my pains awhile, And in the pleasure lose the smart.

But O it swells my sorrows high To see my blessed Jesus frown! My spirits sink, my comforts die, And all the springs of life are down.

Yet why, my soul, why these complaints? Still while he frowns his bowels move; Still on his heart he bears his saints, And feels their sorrows and his love.

My name is printed on his breast; His book of life contains my name; I'd rather have it there impress'd Than in the bright records of fame.

When the last fire burns all things here, Those letters shall securely stand, And in the Lamb's fair book appear, Writ by th' eternal Father's hand.

Now shall my minutes smoothly run, Whil'st here I wait my Father's will; My rising and my setting sun Roll gently up and down the hill.

Hymn 2:51. God the Son equal with the Father.

Bright King of Glory, dreadful God! Our spirits bow before thy seat, To thee we lift an humble thought, And worship at thine awful feet.

[Thy power hath form'd, thy wisdom sways All nature with a sovereign word; And the bright world of stars obeys The will of their superior Lord.]

[Mercy and truth unite in one, And smiling sit at thy right-hand; Eternal justice guards thy throne, And vengeance waits thy dread command.]

A thousand seraphs strong and bright Stand round the glorious Deity; But who amongst the sons of light Pretends comparison with thee?

Yet there is one of human frame, Jesus, array'd in flesh and blood, Thinks it no robbery to claim A full equality with God.

Their glory shines with equal beams; Their essence is for ever one, Tho' they are known by different names The Father God, and God the Son.

Then let the name of Christ our King With equal honours be ador'd; His praise let every angel sing, And all the nations own their Lord.

Hymn 2:52. Death dreadful or delightful.

Death! 'tis a melancholy day To those that have no God, When the poor soul is forc'd away To seek her last abode.

In vain to heaven she lifts her eyes, But guilt, a heavy chain, Still drags her downward from the skies To darkness, fire, and pain.

Awake and mourn, ye heirs of hell, Let stubborn sinners fear, You must be driven from earth, and dwell A long for-ever there.

See how the pit gapes wide for you, And flashes in your face, And thou, my soul, look downwards too, And sing recovering grace.

He is a God of sovereign love That promis'd heaven to me, And taught my thoughts to soar above, Where happy spirits be.

Prepare me, Lord, for thy right-hand, Then come the joyful day, Come death, and some celestial band, To bear my soul away.

Hymn 2:53. The pilgrimage of the saints; or, Earth and heaven.

Lord! what a wretched land is this That yields us no supply! No cheering fruits no wholesome trees, Nor streams of living joy!

But pricking thorns thro' all the ground And mortal poisons grow, And all the rivers that are found With dangerous waters flow.

Yet the clear path to thine abode Lies thro' this horrid land; Lord! we would keep the heavenly road, And run at thy command.

[Our souls shall tread the desert thro' With undiverted feet; And faith and flaming zeal subdue The terrors that we meet.]

[A thousand savage beasts of prey Around the forest roam; But Judah's lion guards the way, And guides the strangers home.]

[Long nights and darkness dwell below, With scarce a twinkling ray; But the bright world to which we go Is everlasting day.]

[By glimmering hopes and gloomy fears We trace the sacred road, Thro' dismal deeps and dangerous snares We make our way to God.]

Our journey is a thorny maze, But we march upward still; Forget these troubles of the ways, And reach at Zion's hill.

[See the kind angels at the gates, Inviting us to come; There Jesus the fore-runner waits To welcome travellers home.]

There on a green and flowery mount Our weary souls shall sit, And with transporting joys recount The labours of our feet.

[No vain discourse shall fill our tongue, Nor trifles vex our ear, Infinite grace shall be our song, And God rejoice to hear.]

Eternal glories to the King That brought us safely thro'; Our tongues shall never cease to sing, And endless praise renew.

Hymn 2:54. God's presence is light in darkness.

My God, the spring of all my joys, The life of my delights, The glory of my brightest days, And comfort of my nights.

In darkest shades if he appear, My dawning is begun; He is my soul's sweet morning star And he my rising sun.

The opening heavens around me shine With beams of sacred bliss, While Jesus shews his heart is mine, And whispers, "I am his!"

My soul would leave this heavy clay At that transporting word, Run up with joy the shining way T' embrace my dearest Lord.

Fearless of hell and ghastly death! I'd break thro' every foe; The wings of love, and arms of faith Should bear me conqueror thro'.

Hymn 2:55. Frail life and succeeding eternity.

Thee we adore, eternal Name, And humbly own to thee, How feeble is our mortal frame! What dying worms are we!

[Our wasting lives grow shorter still As months and days increase; And every beating pulse we tell Leaves but the number less.

The year rolls round, and steals away The breath that first it gave; Whate'er we do, where'er we be, We're travelling to the grave.

Dangers stand thick thro' all the ground To push us to the tomb, And fierce diseases wait around To hurry mortals home.

Good God! on what a slender thread Hang everlasting things! Th' eternal states of all the dead Upon life's feeble strings.

Infinite joy or endless woe Attends on every breath; And yet how unconcern'd we go Upon the brink of death!

Waken, O Lord, our drowsy sense To walk this dangerous road; And if our souls are hurried hence, May they be found with God!

Hymn 2:56. The misery of being without God in this world; or, Vain prosperity.

O, I shall envy them no more Who grow profanely great, Tho' they increase their golden store, And rise to wondrous height.

They taste of all the joys that grow Upon this earthly clod, Well they may search the creature thro', For they have ne'er a God.

Shake off the thoughts of dying too, And think your life your own; But death comes hastening on to you To mow your glory down.

Yes, you must bow your stately head, Away your spirit flies, And no kind angel near your bed To bear it to the skies.

Go now, and boast of all your stores, And tell how bright you shine; Your heaps of glittering dust are yours, And my Redeemer's mine.

Hymn 2:57. The pleasures of a good conscience.

Lord, how secure and bless'd are they Who feel the joys of pardon'd sin! Should storms of wrath shake earth and sea, Their minds have heaven and peace within.

The day glides sweetly o'er their heads, Made up of innocence and love; And soft and silent as the shades Their nightly minutes gently move.

[Quick as their thoughts their joys come on, But fly not half so fast away; Their souls are ever bright as noon, And calm as summer evenings be.

How oft they look to th' heavenly hills, Where groves of living pleasure grow! And longing hopes and cheerful smiles Sit undisturb'd upon their brow.]

They scorn to seek our golden toys, But spend the day and share the night In numbering o'er the richer joys That heaven prepares for their delight.

While wretched we, like worms and moles, Lie grovelling in the dust below: Almighty grace, renew our souls, And we'll aspire to glory too.

Hymn 2:58 The shortness of life, and the goodness of God.

Time! what an empty vapour 'tis! And days how swift they are! Swift as an Indian arrow flies, Or like a shooting star.

[The present moments just appear, Then slide away in haste, That we can never say, "They're here," But only say, "They're past."]

[Our life is ever on the wing, And death is ever nigh; The moment when our lives begin We all begin to die.]

Yet, mighty God, our fleeting days Thy lasting favours share, Yet with the bounties of thy grace Thou load'st the rolling year.

'Tis sovereign mercy finds us food, And we are cloth d with love; While grace stands pointing out the road That leads our souls above.

His goodness runs an endless round; All glory to the Lord: His mercy never knows a bound, And be his Name ador'd!

Thus we begin the lasting song, And when we close our eyes, Let the next age thy praise prolong Till time and nature dies.

Hymn 2:59. Paradise on earth.

Glory to God that walks the sky, And sends his blessings thro', That tells his saints of joys on high, And gives a taste below.

[Glory to God that stoops his throne That dust and worms may see't, And brings a glimpse of glory down Around his sacred feet.

When Christ, with all his graces crown'd, Sheds his kind beams abroad, 'Tis a young heaven on earthly ground, And glory in the bud.

A blooming paradise of joy In this wild desert springs; And every sense I straight employ On sweet celestial things.

White lilies all around appear, And each his glory shows; The rose of Sharon blossoms here, The fairest flower that blows.

Cheerful I feast on heavenly fruit, And drink the pleasures down, Pleasures that flow hard by the foot Of the eternal throne.]

But ah! how soon my joys decay, How soon my sins arise, And snatch the heavenly scene away From these lamenting eyes!

When shall the time, dear Jesus, when The shining day appear, That I shall leave those clouds of sin, And guilt and darkness here?

Up to the fields above the skies My hasty feet would go, There everlasting flowers arise, And joys unwithering grow.

Hymn 2:60. The truth of God the promiser; or, The promises are our security.

Praise, everlasting praise be paid To him that earth's foundations laid; Praise to the God whose strong decrees Sway the creation as he please.

Praise to the goodness of the Lord Who rules his people by his word, And there as strong as his decrees He sets his kindest promises.

[Firm are the words his prophets give, Sweet words on which his children live; Each of them is the voice of God, Who spoke and spread the skies abroad.

Each of them powerful as that sound That bid the new-made heavens go round; And stronger than the solid poles, On which the wheel of nature rolls.]

Whence then should doubts and fears arise, Why trickling sorrows drown our eyes? Slowly, alas, our mind receives The comforts that our Maker gives.

O for a strong, a lasting faith To credit what th' almighty saith! T' embrace the message of his Son, And call the joys of heaven our own.

Then should the earth's old pillars shake, And all the wheels of nature break, Our steady souls should fear no more Than solid rocks when billows roar.

Our everlasting hopes arise Above the ruinable skies, Where the eternal Builder reigns, And his own courts his power sustains.