[burn;

5 When thus the mountains melt like wax; When earth, and air, and sea shall When all the frame of nature breaks, Poor sinner, whither wilt thou turn?

6 The puny works which feeble men Now boast, or covet, or admire;

7

Their pomp, and arts, and treasures then

Shall perish in one common fire.

Lord, fix our hearts and hopes above! Since all below to ruin tends;

Here may we trust, obey, and love, And there be found amongst thy friends.

1 JOHN, in a vision, saw the day When the Judge will hasten down: Heav'n and earth shall flee away

From the terror of his frown:
Dead and living, small and great,
Raised from the earth and sea,
At his bar shall hear their fate,
What will then become of me?

2 Can I bear his awful looks?

Shall I stand in judgment then,
When I see the open'd books,
Written by the Almighty's pen?
If he to remembrance bring,
And expose to public view,
Ev'ry work and secret thing,
Ah, my soul, what canst thou do?

3 When the list shall be produc'd
Of the talents I enjoy'd;
Means and mercies, how abas'd!
Time and strength, how misem-
ploy'd!

Conscience, then, compell'd to read,
Must allow the charge is true;
Say, my soul, what canst thou plead
In that hour, what wilt thou do?

4 But the book of life I see,

May my name be written there!'
Then, from guilt and danger free,

Glad I'll meet him in the air:
That's the book I hope to plead,

"Tis the Gospel open'd wide;
Lord, I am a wretch indeed!

I have sinn'd, but thou hast dy'd.t

5 Now my soul knows what to do ;

Thus I shall with boldness stand, Number'd with the faithful few, Own'd and sav'd at thy right hand:

If thou help a feeble worm

To believe thy promise now,
Justice will at last confirm
What thy mercy wrought below.

5 The new creation of the soul Does now no less his pow'r display, Than when he form'd the mighty whole,

And kindled darkness into day.*

6 Though self-destroy'd, O Lord, we

are,

Yet let us feel what thou canst do; Thy word the ruin can repair, And all our hearts create anew.

1 THE book of nature open lies,

With much instruction stor'd; But, till the Lord anoints our eyes, We cannot read a word. Philosophers have por❜d in vain, And guess'd from age to age; For reason's eye could ne'er attain To understand a page.

3 Though to each star they give a

name,

Its size and motions teach;

The truths which all the stars proclaim

Their wisdom cannot reach.

4 With skill to measure earth and sea,
And weigh the subtle air,
They cannot, Lord, discover thee,
Though present ev'ry where.

5 The knowledge of the saints excels
The wisdom of the schools;
To them his secrets God reveals,
Though men account them fools.
6 To them the sun and stars on high,
The flow'rs that paint the field,
And all the artless birds that fly,
Divine instruction yield.t

7 The creatures on their senses press, As witnesses to prove

Their Saviour's pow'r and faithfulness,

His providence and love.

8 Thus may we study nature's book,
To make us wise indeed!
And pity those who only look
At what they cannot read.‡

Smiles upon a low'ring sky,
Soon its aspect soften'd seems,
And a rainbow meets the eye:
While the sky remains serene,
This bright arch is never seen.

2 Thus the Lord's supporting pow'r

Brightest to his saints appears,
When affliction's threat'ning hour
Fills their sky with clouds and
fears:

He can wonders then perform,
Paint a rainbow on the storm.||

When their troubles press them sore;

And the promises, divine,

Give them joys unknown before:
As the colours of the bow [owe.
To the cloud their brightness

4 Favour'd John a rainbow saw,

Circling round the throne above; Hence the saints a pledge may draw Of unchanging cov'nant-love: Clouds a while may intervene, But the bow will still be seen.

Then guilt and fear, the fruits of sin,
The sinner oft pursue;

A louder storm is heard within,
And conscience thunders too.

A faint and feeble ray;

She owes her beauty to the night,
And hides herself by day.

2 No cheering warmth her beam con

veys,

Though pleasing to behold; We might upon her brightness gaze Till we were num'd with cold.

3 Just such is all the light to man

Which reason can impart,
It cannot show one object plain,
Nor warm the frozen heart.

To many fatal prove; For what avail in gifts to shine Without a spark of love?†

5 The Gospel, like the sun at noon,
Affords a glorious light;
Then fallen reason's boasted moon
Appears no longer bright.

6 And grace not light alone bestows,
But adds a quick'ning pow'r ;
The desert blossoms like the rose,t
And sin prevails no more.