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The graves of all His saints He bless'd
And soften'd every bed:

Where should the dying members rest,
But with their dying Head?

Thence He arose, ascending high,
And shew'd our feet the way:
Up to the Lord our flesh shall fly,
At the great rising-day.

Then let the last loud trumpet sound,

And bid our kindred rise:
Awake, ye nations under ground;
Ye saints, ascend the skies.

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.

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 clothed 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 adored!


Thus we begin the lasting song;
And, when we close our eyes,

Let the next age Thy praise prolong,

Till time and nature dies.



[As has already been stated, Dr Watts's Psalms are not mere renderings of the Hebrew Psalter into English metre, but an adaptation of the songs of Zion to the worship of the New Testament Church. Of this plan the following may serve as an exemplification:-]

Psalm viii.

O Lord, our Lord, how wondrous great

Is Thine exalted name!

The glories of Thy heavenly state,
Let men and babes proclaim.

When I behold Thy works on high,

The moon that rules the night,
And stars that well adorn the sky,
Those moving worlds of light:

Lord! what is man, or all his race,
Who dwells so far below,

That Thou shouldst visit him with grace,

And love his nature so?

That Thine eternal Son should bear

To take a mortal form;

Made lower than His angels are,

To save a dying worm!

Let Him be crown'd with majesty
Who bow'd His head to death;
And be His honours sounded high
By all things that have breath.

Jesus, our Lord, how wondrous great
Is Thine exalted name!

The glories of Thy heavenly state,

Let the whole earth proclaim.

Psalm Ixxii.

Jesus shall reign where'er the sun
Does his successive journeys run;
His kingdom stretch from shore to shore,
Till moons shall wax and wane no more.

Behold the islands with their kings,
And Europe her best tribute brings;
From north to south, the princes meet
To pay their homage at His feet.

There Persia, glorious to behold,
There India shines in eastern gold;
And barbarous nations at His word
Submit, and bow, and own their Lord.

For Him shall endless prayer be made,
And praises throng to crown His head:
His name like sweet perfume shall rise
With every morning sacrifice.

People and realms of every tongue
Dwell on His love with sweetest song;
And infant voices shall proclaim
Their early blessings on His name.

Blessings abound where'er He reigns;
The prisoner leaps to lose his chains;
The weary find eternal rest,
And all the sons of want are bless'd.

Where He displays His healing power, Death and the curse are known no more:

In Him the tribes of Adam boast

More blessings than their father lost.

Let every creature rise and bring
Peculiar honours to our King;
Angels descend with songs again,
And earth repeat the long Amen.

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Our God, our help in ages past,

Our hope for years to come!
Be Thou our guard while troubles last,
And our eternal home.

Psalm xcviii.

Joy to the world! The Lord is come!
Let earth receive her King:
Let every heart prepare Him room,
And heaven and nature sing.

Joy to the earth! The Saviour reigns!

Let men their songs employ,

While fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains,
Repeat the sounding joy.

No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground:
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found.

He rules the world with truth and grace,
And makes the nations prove

The glories of His righteousness,
And wonders of His love.

Psalm c.

Sing to the Lord with joyful voice;
Let every land His name adore;
The British isles shall send the noise
Across the ocean to the shore.

Nations attend before His throne
With solemn fear, with sacred joy,
Know that the Lord is God alone;
He can create, and He destroy.

His sovereign power, without our aid,
Made us of clay, and formed us men;
And when like wandering sheep we strayed,
He brought us to His fold again.

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