The Providence of God in successive Seasons. Psalin Ixv. Second Part.
1'TIS by thy strength the mountains stand,
God of eternal pow'r!
The sea grows calm at thy command, And tempests cease to roar.
2 Thy morning light and evening shade Successive comforts bring;
Thy plenteous fruits make harvest glad, Thy flow'rs adorn the spring.
3 Seasons and times, and moons and hours, Heav'n, earth, and air, are thine; When clouds distil in fruitful show'rs, The author is divine.
4 Those wand'ring cisterns of the sky, Borne by the wind around,
With wat'ry treasures well supply The furrows of the ground.
5 The thirsty ridges drink their til!, And ranks of corn appear; Thy ways abound with blessings still, Thy goodness crowns the year! 90. L. M.
Providence equitable and kind. Ps. cvii. 1 THROUGH all the various shifting scene Of life's mistaken ill or good, Thy hand, O God! conducts unseen The beautiful vicissitude.
2 Thou givest with paternal care, Howe'er unjustly we complain, And 'tis the necessary share
Of joy and sorrow, health and pain. 3 Trust we to youth, or friends, or pow'r? Fix we on this terrestrial ball?
When most secure the coming hour, If tuon seest fit, may blast them all. 1 When lowest sunk with grief and shaine, Fill'd with affliction's bitter cup, Lost to relations, friends, and fame, Thy powerful hand can raise ns up.
5 All things on earth, and all in heav'n," On thy eternal will depend; And all for greater good were giv'n, And all shall in thy glory end! 6 This be my care, to all beside Indiff'rent let my wishes be, Passion be calm, and dumb be pride, And fix'd, O God! my soul on thee. 91. C. M. Cowper.
The Mysteries of Providence. OD moves in a mysterious way,
1G is wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm.
2 Deep in unfathomable mines Of never-failing skill,
He treasures up his bright designs, And works his sov'reign will.
3 Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head!
4 Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace, Behind a frowning providence, He hides a smiling face.
5 His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hour:
The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flow'r. 6 Blind unbelief is sure to err, And sean his work in vain; God is his own interpreter, And he will make it plain.
92. C. M. Mr. Beddome.
Mysteries of Providence to be explained hereafter. John, xiii. 7.
GREAT God of Providence Are hid from mortal sight; Wrapt in impenetrable shades! Or cloth'a with dazzling light.
2 The wondrous methods of thy grace Evade the human eye;
The nearer we attempt t'approach, The farther off they fly."
3 But in the world of bliss above, Where thou dost ever reign,
These myst'ries shall be all unveil'd, And not a doubt remain."
4 The Sun of Righteousness shall there His brightest beams display, And not a hovering cloud obscure That never-ending day!
93. C. M. Mr. Addison.
Providence amidst Dangers. HOW are thy servants hless'd, O Lord,
How sure is their defence!
Eternal wisdom is their guide,
Their help Omnipotence.
2 In foreign realms, and lands remote, Supported by thy care,
Through burning climes they pass unhurt, And breathe in tainted air.
3 When by the dreadful tempest borne, High on the broken wave,
They know thou art not slow to hear, Nor impotent to save.
4 The storm is laid, the winds retire, Obedient to thy will:
The sea that roars at thy command, At thy cominand is still.
5 In midst of dangers, fears, and deaths, Thy goodness we'll adore,
We'll praise thee for thy mercies past,, And humbly hope for more.
6 Our life, while thou preserv'st that life, Thy sacrifice shall be:
And death, when death shall be our lot, Shall join our souls to thee.
Deliverance and Protection. Ps. xxxiv.
1 T'LL bless the Lord from day to day; How good are all his ways!
Ye humble souls that us'd to pray, Come, help my lips to praise.
2 Sing to the honour of his name, How a poor sufferer cry'd, Nor was his hope expos'd to shame, Nor was his suit deny'd.
8 [O sinners, come and taste his love, Come, learn his pleasant ways, And let your own experience prove The sweetness of his grace.
4 He bids his angels pitch their tents Round where his children dwell; What ills their heav'nly care prevents No earthly tongue can tell.]
5 [O love the Lord, ye saints of his! His eye regards the just!
How richly bless'd their portion is Who make the Lord their trust! 6 Young lions, pinch'd with hunger, roar, And famish in the wood:
But God supplies his holy poor With ev'ry needful good.]
95. P. M. Mr. Addison.
Confidence in Divine Providence. Ps. xxiii.
1T and feed me with a shepherd's care; Lord my pasture shall prepare, His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye, My noon-day walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend. 2 When in the sultry glebe I faint, Or on the thirsty mountain pant; To fertile vales and dewy meads, My weary wand'ring steps he leads; Where peacetul rivers, soft and slow, Amid the verdant landscape flow.
3 Though in the paths of death I tread, With gloomy horrors overspread, My steadfast heart shall fear no ill, For thou, O Lord! art with me still; Thy friendly hand shall give me aid, And guide me through the dreadful shade. 4 Though in a bare and rugged way; Through devions lonely wilds I stray, Thy bounty shall my pains beguile: The barren wilderness shall smile, With sudden greens and herbage crown'd And streams shall murmur all around.
Worldly Anxiety reproved; or, Confidence in Providence.
WHY do I thus perplex
WMy breath of life and air,
With fears of distant ills, and vex My heart with fruitless care! 2 Can thought and toil increase My days' appointed sum?
Why waste I then my time, my peace, To hoard for years to come?
3 These covetous desires,
These restless cares I leave
To them whose hope at death expires, And who in chance believe.
4 Will he whose bounty gave
My life, its food deny?
Who form'd my nature apt to crave, Its cravings not supply?
5 Behold the flowers that grow
That for the furnace stand;
With what rich dyes their garments glow Without the lab'ring hand!
6 The tribes that wing the sky, That neither sow nor reap, Send up to God their daily cry, Who gives them food and sleep.
7 Then let to-morrow's cares Until to-morrow stay;
The trouble which the day prepares, Suffices for to-day.
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