Psalms Of Watts 11-15
The
Psalms Of David
By Isaac Watts
In Metre
Psalm 11.
God loves the righteous and hates the wicked.
1 My refuge is the God of love;
Why do my foes insult and cry,
"Fly like a timorous trembling dove,
"To distant woods or mountains fly"?
2 If government be all destroy'd
(That firm foundation of our peace)
And violence make justice void,
Where shall the righteous seek redress?
3 The Lord in heaven has fix'd his throne,
His eye surveys the world below;
To him all mortal things are known,
His eyelids search our spirits thro'.
4 If he afflicts his saints so far
To prove their love, and try their grace,
What may the bold transgressors fear?
His very soul abhors their ways.
5 On impious wretches he shall rain
Tempests of brimstone, fire, and death,
Such as he kindled on the plain
Of Sodom with his angry breath.
6 The righteous Lord loves righteous souls,
Whose thoughts and actions are sincere;
And with a gracious eye beholds
The men that his own image bear.
Psalm 12.
The saint's safety and hope in evil times.
1 Lord, if thou dost not soon appear,
Virtue and truth will fly away;
A faithful man, amongst us here,
Will scarce be found if thou delay.
2 The whole discourse, when neighbours meet,
Is fill'd with trifles loose and vain;
Their lips are flattery and deceit,
And their proud language is profane.
3 But lips, that with deceit abound,
Shall not maintain their triumph long;
The God of vengeance will confound
The flattering and blaspheming tongue.
4 "Yet shall our words be free," they cry,
"Our tongue shall be controll'd by none:
"Where is the Lord will ask us why?
"Or say, our lips are not our own?"
5 The Lord who sees the poor opprest,
And hears th' oppressor's haughty strain,
Will rise to give his children rest,
Nor shall they trust his word in vain.
6 Thy word, O Lord, tho' often try'd,
Void of deceit shall still appear
Not silver, seven times purify'd
From dross and mixture, shines so clear.
7 Thy grace shall in the darkest hour
Defend the holy soul from harm;
Tho' when the vilest men have power
On every side will sinners swarm.
Psalm 12.
Complaint of a general corruption of manners.
1 Help, Lord, for men of virtue fail,
Religion loses ground,
The sons of violence prevail,
And treacheries abound.
2 Their oaths and promises they break,
Yet act the flatterer's part;
With fair deceitful lips they speak,
And with a double heart.
3 If we reprove some hateful lie,
How is their fury stirr'd!
"Are not our lips our own" they cry,
"And who shall be our lord?"
4 Scoffers appear on every side,
Where a vile race of men
Is rais'd to seats of power and pride,
And bears the sword in vain.
PAUSE.
5 Lord, when iniquities abound,
And blasphemy grows bold,
When faith is hardly to be found,
And love is waxing cold,
6 Is not thy chariot hastening on?
Hast thou not given this sign?
May we not trust and live upon
A promise so divine?
7 "Yes," saith the Lord, " now will I rise,
"And make oppressors flee;
"I shall appear to their surprise,
"And set my servants free."
8 Thy word, like silver seven times try'd,
Thro' ages shall endure;
The men that in thy truth confide,
Shall find thy promise sure.
Psalm 13.
Pleading with God under desertion.
1 How long, 0 Lord, shall I complain
Like one that seeks his God in vain?
Canst thou thy face for ever hide?
And I still pray and be deny'd?
2 Shall I for ever be forgot
As one whom thou regardest not?
Still shall my soul thine absence mourn?
And still despair of thy return?
3 How long shall my poor troubled breast
Be with these anxious thoughts opprest?
And Satan, my malicious foe,
Rejoice to see me sunk so low.
4 Hear, Lord, and grant me quick relief,
Before my death conclude my grief;
If thou withhold thy heavenly light,
I sleep in everlasting night.
5 How will the powers of darkness boast,
If but one praying soul be lost!
But I have trusted in thy grace,
And shall again behold thy face.
6 Whate'er my fears or foes suggest,
Thou art my hope, my joy, my rest;
My heart shall feel thy love, and raise
My cheerful voice to songs of praise.
Psalm 13.
Complaint under temptations of the devil.
1 How long wilt thou conceal thy face?
My God, how long delay?
When shall I feel those heavenly rays
That chase my fears away?
2 How long shall my poor labouring soul
Wrestle and toil in vain?
Thy word can all my foes control,
And ease my raging pain.
3 See how the prince of darkness tries
All his malicious arts,
He spreads a mist around my eyes,
And throws his fiery darts.
4 Be thou my sun and thou my shield,
My soul in safety keep;
Make haste before mine eyes are seal'd
In death's eternal sleep.
5 How would the tempter boast aloud
If I become his prey!
Behold the sons of hell grow proud
At thy so long delay.
6 But they shall fly at thy rebuke,
And Satan hide his head;
He knows the terrors of thy look
And hears thy voice with dread.
7 Thou wilt display that sovereign grace,
Where all my hopes have hung;
I shall employ my lips in praise,
And victory shall be sung.
Psalm 14 - Part One.
By nature all men are sinners.
1 Fools in their hearts believe and say,
"That all religion's vain,
"There is no God that reigns on high,
"Or minds th' affairs of men."
2 From thoughts so dreadful and profane
Corrupt discourse proceeds;
And in their impious hands are found
Abominable deeds.
3 The Lord, from his celestial throne
Look'd down on things below,
To find the man that sought his grace,
Or did his justice know.
4 By nature all are gone astray,
Their practice all the same;
There's none that fears his Maker's hand,
There's none that loves his name.
5 Their tongues are us'd to speak deceit,
Their slanders never cease;
How swift to mischief are their feet,
Nor knew the paths of peace.
6 Such seeds of sin (that bitter root)
In every heart are found;
Nor can they bear diviner fruit,
Till grace refine the ground.
Psalm 14 - Part Two.
The folly of persecutors.
1 Are sinners now so senseless grown
That they thy saints devour?
And never worship at thy throne,
Nor fear thine awful power?
2 Great God appear to their surprise,
Reveal thy dreadful name;
Let them no more thy wrath despise,
Nor turn our hope to shame.
3 Dost thou not dwell among the just?
And yet our foes deride,
That we should make thy name our trust;
Great God, confound their pride.
4 O that the joyful day were come
To finish our distress!
When God shall bring his children home,
Our songs shall never cease.
Psalm 15.
Characters of a saint.
1 Who shall inhabit in thy hill,
0 God of holiness?
Whom will the Lord admit to dwell
So near his throne of grace?
2 The man that walks in pious ways,
And works with righteous hands;
That trusts his Maker's promises,
And follows his commands.
3 He speaks the meaning of his heart,
Nor slanders with his tongue;
Will scarce believe an ill report,
Nor do his neighbour wrong.
4 The wealthy sinner he contemns,
Loves all that fear the Lord:
And tho' to his own hurt he swears,
Still he performs his word.
5 His hands disdain a golden bribe,
And never gripe the poor;
This man shall dwell with God on earth,
And find his heaven secure.
Psalm 15.
Religion and justice, goodness and truth.
1 Who shall ascend thy heavenly place,
Great God, and dwell before thy face?
The man that minds religion now,
And humbly walks with God below:
2 Whose hands are pure, whose heart is clean,
Whose lips still speak the thing they mean;
No slanders dwell upon his tongue;
He hates to do his neighbour wrong.
3 [Scarce will he trust an ill report,
Nor vents it to his neighbour's hurt:
Sinners of state he can despise,
But saints are honour'd in his eyes.]
4 [Firm to his word he ever stood,
And always makes his promise good;
Nor dares to change the thing he swears,
Whatever pain or loss he bears.]
5 [He never deals in bribing gold,
And mourns that justice should be sold:
While others gripe and grind the poor,
Sweet charity attends his door.]
6 He loves his enemies, and prays
For those that curse him to his face;
And doth to all men still the same
That he would hope or wish from them.
7 Yet when his holiest works are done,
His soul depends on grace alone;
This is the man thy face shall see,
And dwell for ever Lord, with thee.
Comments
Post a Comment