6 Or should I try to shun thy sight Beneath the sable wings of night, One glance from thee, one piercing ray, Would kindle darkness into day.
7 The veil of night is no disguise, No screen from thy all-searching eyes: Thro' midnight shades thou find'st thy way, As in the blazing noon of day.
8 Search, try, O God, my thoughts and heart, If mischief lurks in any part;
Correct me where I go astray, And guide me in thy perfect way.
The All-seeing God. Ps. 139.
1 LORD, thou hast searched and seen me through; Thine eye commands with piercing view My rising and my resting hours, My heart and flesh, with all their powers.
2 My thoughts, before they are my own, Are to my God distinctly known;
He knows the words I mean to speak, Ere from my opening lips they break. 3 Within thy circling power I stand; On every side I find thy hand: Awake, asleep, at home, abroad, I am surrounded still with God.'
4 Amazing knowledge, vast and great! What large extent! what lofty height! My soul, with all the powers I boast, Is in the boundless prospect lost.
5 O may these thoughts possess my breast, Where'er I rove, where'er I rest; Nor let my weaker passions dare Consent to sin, for God is there.
God is everywhere. Ps. 139.
1 In all my vast concerns with thee, In vain my soul would try
To shun thy presence, Lord, or flee The notice of thine eye.
2 Thine all-surrounding sight surveys My rising and my rest;
My public walks, my private ways, And secrets of my breast.
3 My thoughts lie open to the Lord, Before they're formed within; And ere my lips pronounce the word, He knows the sense I mean.
4 O wondrous knowledge, deep and high! Where can a creature hide? Within thy circling arms I lie, Beset on every side.
5 So let thy grace surround me still, And like a bulwark prove,
To guard my soul from every ill, Secured by sovereign love.
Wisdom of God in his Works. Ps. 111.
1 SONGS of immortal praise belong To my almighty God;
He has my heart, and he my tongue, To spread his name abroad.
2 How great the works his hand hath wrought; How glorious in our sight! Good men in every age have sought His wonders with delight.
3 How most exact is nature's frame! How wise the Eternal Mind! His counsels never change the scheme That his first thoughts designed.
4 Nature and time, and earth and skies, Thy heavenly skill proclaim; What shall we do to make us wise, But learn to read thy name?
5 To fear thy power, to trust thy grace, Is our divinest skill;
And he's the wisest of our race That best obeys thy will.
Goodness of God to Soul and Body. Ps. 103.
1 BLESS, O my soul, the living God, Call home thy thoughts that rove abroad; Let all the powers within me join
In work and worship so divine.
2 Bless, O my soul, the God of grace; His favors claim thy highest praise; Why should the wonders he hath wrought Be lost in silence and forgot?
3 The vices of the mind he heals, And cures the pains that nature feels, Redeems the soul from death, and saves Our wasting life from threatening graves. 4 Our youth decayed, his power repairs; His mercy crowns our growing years; He satisfies our mouth with good, And fills our hopes with heavenly food. 5 He sees the oppressor and the oppressed, And often gives the sufferers rest; But will his justice more display In the last great rewarding day.
Mercy of God to the Frailty of Man. Ps. 103. 1 LORD, we adore thy wondrous name, And make that name our trust, Which raised at first this curious frame From mean and lifeless dust.
2 Awhile these frail machines endure, The fabric of a day;
Then know their vital powers no more, But moulder back to clay.
3 Yet, Lord, whate'er is felt or feared, This thought is our repose,
That He, by whom this frame was reared, Its various weakness knows.
4 Thou view'st us with a pitying eye, While struggling with our load; In pains and dangers thou art nigh, Our Father, and our God.
5 Gently supported by thy love, We tend to realms of peace; Where every pain shall far remove, And every frailty cease.
Abounding Compassion of God. Ps. 103
1 My soul, repeat his praise, Whose mercies are so great; Whose anger is so slow to rise, So ready to abate.
2 High as the heavens are raised Above the ground we tread, So far the riches of his grace Our highest thoughts exceed.
3 His power subdues our sins, And his forgiving love, Far as the east is from the west, Doth all our guilt remove.
4 The pity of the Lord
To those that fear his name, Is such as tender parents feel; He knows our feeble frame.
5 Our days are as the grass, Or like the morning flower;
If one sharp blast sweep o'er the field, It withers in an hour.
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