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In our own ftrength unhappily fecure,
Too little cautious of the adverfe pow'r;
And, by the blait of felf-opinion mov'd,
We with to charm, and feek to be belov'd.
Da pitafure's now'ry brink we idly stray,
Muters as yet of our returning way:
Seeing no danger, we diám our mind,
And give our conduct to the waves and wind:
Then in the dow`ry mead, or verdant shade,
To wanton dalliance negligently laid,
We weave the chaplet, and we crown the bowl,
Ard fmiling fee the nearer waters roll:
Tiu the trong guits of raging paffion rife,
Till the dire tempelt mingles earth and skies;
And, fwift into the boundiefs ocean borne,
Our foolish confidence too late we mourn:
Round our devoted heads the billows beat;
And from our troubled view the leffend lands
59. A Paraphrafe on the latter Part of the Sixth
Chapter of St. Matthew. Thomfon.
WHEs my breat labours with oppreffive care,
And c'er my cheek defcends the falling tear;
While all my warring pasfions are at ftrife,
Oh let me lizen to the words of life!
Raptures deep felt his doctrine did impart,
And thus be rais'd from earth the droopingheart:
Think not, when all your fcanty stores afford
Is ipread at once upon the fparing board;
Think not, when worn the homely robe appears,
While on the roof the how ing tempeft bears;
Wast farther fhall this feeble life fuftain,
Andwist thali clothe thefe thiv'ring limbs again.
Say, does not life its nourishment exceed?
And the fair body its invefting weed?
Behold and look away your low despair-
See the light tenants of the barren air':
To them nor tiores nor granaries belong,
Nought but the woodland and the pleafing fong;
Yet your kind heav'nly Father bends his eye
On the leaft wing that flits along the sky,
To him they fing when fpring renews the plain,
To him, they cry in winter's pinching reign;
Nor is their mufic or their plaint in vain;
He bears the gay and the distressful call,
And with unfparing bounty fills them all.
Obferve the rifing lily's fnowy grace,
Chierve the various vegetable race;
They neither toil nor fpin, but careless grow,
Yet see how warm they blush! how bright they
What regal veftments can with them compare?
What king fo fhining, or what queen so fair?
If celeefs thus the fowls of heav'n he feeds,
If o'er the felds fuch lucid robes he fpreads,
Will he not care for you, ye faithless, say?
Is be unwite or are ye lefs than they?
60. SONGS of Praife. Watts.
A general Song of Praife to God.
How glorious is our heav'nly King,
Who reigns above the sky!
fing the goodness of the Lord,
That fill'd the earth with food;
He form'd the creatures with his word,
And then pronounc'd them good.
Lord, how thy wonders are display'd,
Where'er I turn mine eye!
If I furvey the ground I tread,
Or gaze upon the sky;
There's not a plant or flow'r below
But makes thy glories known;
And clouds arife, and tempests blow,
By order from thy throne.
Creatures (as num'rous as they be)
Are fubject to thy care;
There's not a place where we can flee,
But God is present there.
In heav'n he fhines with beams of love,
With wrath in hell beneath!
'Tis on his earth I ftand or move,
And 'tis his air I breathe.
His hand is my perpetual guard,
He keeps me with his eye:
Why fhould I then forget the Lord,
Who is for ever nigh?
Bleft be the Lord that fent his Son
To take our flesh and blood!
He for our lives gave up his own
To make our peace with God.
He honour'd all his Father's laws,
Which we have disobey'd;
He bore our fins upon the cross,
And our full ransom paid.
Behold him rifing from the grave;
Behold him rais'd on high:
He pleads his merit there, to fave
Tranfgreffors doom'd to die.
There on a glorious throne he reigns,
And by his pow'r divine
Redeems us from the flavish chains
Of Satan and of fin.
Thence shall the Lord to judgment come,
And with a fov'reign voice
Shall call and break up ev'ry tomb,
While waking faints rejoice.
O may I then with joy appear
Before the Judge's face!
And, with the blefs'd affembly there,
Sing his redeeming grace!
Praise for Mercies Spiritual and Temporal.
WHENE'ER I take my walks abroad,
How many poor I fee!
What shall I render to my God
For all his gifts to me!
Not more than others I defer ve,
Yet God has given me more;
For I have food while others starve,
Or beg from door to door.
How many children in the street
Half naked I behold!
While I am cloth'd from head to feet,
And cover'd from the cold!
While fome poor wretches fcarce can tell
Where they may lay their head,
I have a home wherein to dwell,
And rest upon my bed.
While others early learn to fwear,
And curfe, and lie, and steal,
Lord, I am taught thy name to fear,
And do thy holy will.
Are these thy favours, day by day,
To me above the rest?
Then let me love thee more than they,
And try to serve thee beft.
Praise for Birth and Education in a Chriflian Land.
GREAT GOD! to thee my voice I raise,
To thee my youngest hours belong;
I would begin my life with praife,
Till growing years improve the fong.
'Tis to thy fov'reign grace I owe
That I was born on British ground;
Where streams of heav'nly mercy flow,
And words of fweet falvation found.
I would not change my native land
For rich Peru, with all her gold;
A nobler prize lies in my hand
Than Eaft or Western Indies hold.
How do I pity thofe that dwell
Where ignorance or darkness reigns!
They know no heav'n, they fear no hell,
Thofe enlefs joys, thofe endless pains.
Thy glorious promifes, O Lord,
Kindle my hopes and my detire;
While all the preachers of thy word
Warn me to 'fcape eternal fire.
Thy praife fhall ftill employ my breath,
Since thou haft mark'd my way to heav'n;
Nor will I run the road to death,
And waste the bleffings thou haft giv`n.
Praise for the Gospel.
LORD, I afcribe it to thy grace,
And not to chance, as others do,
That I was born of Christian race,
And not a Heathen or a Jew.
What would the ancient Jewish kings
And Jewish prophets once have giv'n,
Could they have heard thofe glorious things
Which Chrift reveal'dand brought from heav
How glad the Heathens would have been,
That worship'd idols, wood and ftone,
If they the book of God had seen,
Or Jefus and his Gospel known!
Then, if this Gospel I refufe,
How thall I e'er lift up mine eyes!
For all the Gentiles and the Jews
Againft me will in judgment rife.
Praife to God for learning to Read.
THE praifes of my tongue
I offer to the Lord,
That I was taught, and learnt so young,
To read his holy word.
That I am brought to know
The danger I was in;
By nature, and by practice too,
A wretched flave to fin.
That I am led to fee
I can do nothing well;
And whither fhail a finner flee
To fave himfelf from hell?
Dear Lord, this book of thine
Informs me where to go
For grace to pardon all my fin,
And make me holy too.
Here I can read and learn,
How Chrift, the Son of God,
Did undertake our great concern
Our ranfom coft his blood.
And now he reigns above,
He fends his Spirit down,
To thew the wonders of his love,
And make his gofpel known.
The stars, that in their courfes roll,
Have much inftruction given;
But thy good word informs my foul
How I may comb to heav'n!
The fields provide me food, and shew
The goodness of the Lord;
But fruits of life and glory grow
In thy moft holy word.
Here are my choiceft treafures hid,
Here my belt comfort lies:
Here my defires are fatisfied,
THERE is a God that reigns above,
GREAT God, with wonder and with praise
On all thy works I look;
Bat fill thy wildom, pow'r, and grace,
Shine brighteft in thy book.
§ 61. The Excellency of the Bible demonftrated. Lord of the heav'ns, and earth, and feas:
I fear his wrath, I ask his love,
And with my lips I fing his praife.
There is a law which he has writ,
To teach us all what we must do:
My foul, to his commands fubmit,
For they are holy, juft, and true.
There is a gofpel of rich grace,
Whence finners all their comforts draw:
Lord, I repent, and seek thy face,
For I have often broke thy law.
There is an hour when I must die;
No do I know how foon 'twill come;
A thoufand children, young as I,
Are call'd by death to hear their doom.
Let me improve the hours I have,
Before the day of grace is fled;
There's no repentance in the grave,
Nor pardons offer'd to the dead.
Juft as the tree, cut down, that fell
To north or fouthward, there it lies:
So man departs to heav'n or hell,
Fix'd in the state wherein he dies.
And hence my hopes arise.
Lord, make me understand thy law,
Shew what my faults have been;
And from thy gospel let me draw
Pardon for all my fin.
Here would I learn how Chrift has died
To fave my foul from hell :
Not all the books on earth befide
O may I now for ever fear
T'indulge a finful thought,
Since the great God can fee and hear,
And writes down ev'ry fault.
Be read and publish'd there? Be a expos'd before the Sun,
While men and angels hear? Lord, at the foot afham'd I lie;
Upward I dare not look: Pardon my fins before I die,
Aad blt them from thy book.
Remember all the dying pains
That my Redeemer felt;
And let his blood wash out my stains,
And answer for my guilt.
$63. Solemn Thoughts concerning God and Death.
'Tis easier work, if we begin
To fear the Lord betimes;
While finners that grow old in fin
Are harden'd in their crimes.
Twill fave us from a thousand snares,
To mind religion young,
Grace will preferve our following years,
And make our virtue strong.
To thee, Almighty God, to thee,
Our childhood we refign;
'Twill please us to look back and fee
That our whole lives were thine.
Let the fweet work of pray'r and praise
Employ my youngest breath;
Thus I'm prepar'd for longer days,
Or fit for early death.
$ 66. The Danger of Delay. WHY should I fay, ""Tis yet too foon "To feek for Heav'n, or think of death?" A flow'r may fade before 'tis noon, And I this day may lose my breath. If this rebellious heart of mine Defpife the gracious calls of Heaven, I may be harden'd in my fin, And never have repentance given. What if the Lord grow wroth, and swear, While I refuse to read and pray, That he'll refufe to lend an ear To all my groans another day! What if his dreadful anger burn, While I refuse his offer'd grace, And all his love to fury turn, And strike me dead upon the place! 'Tis dangerous to provoke a God! His pow'r and vengeance none can tell: One ftroke of his almighty rod Shall fend young finners quick to hell.. Then 'twill for ever be in vain To cry for pardon and for grace; To with I had my time again, Or hope to fee my Maker's face!
67. Examples of early Piety. Watts.
WHAT blefs'd examples do I find
Writ in the word of truth,
Of children that began to mind
Religion in their youth"
Jefus, who reigns above the sky,
And keeps the world in awe,
Was once a child as young as I,
And kept his Father's law.
At twelve years old he talk'd with men,
(The Jews all wond'ring stand)
Yet he obey'd his mother then,
And came at her command.
Children a fweet hofanna fung,
And blefs'd their Saviour's name! They gave him honour with their tongue, While fcribes and priests blafpheme. 5
Samuel the child was wean'd, and brought
To wait upon the Lord;
Young Timothy betimes was taught
To know his holy word.
Then why fhould I fo long delay
What others learn fo foon?
I would not pafs another day
Without this work begun.
§ 68. Against Lying. Watts.
O'Tis a lovely thing for youth
To walk betimes in wifdom's way;
To fear a lie, to speak the truth,
That we may trust to all they say.
But liars we can never truft,
Tho' they fhould fpeak the thing that 's tr
And he that does one fault at first,
And lies to hide it, makes it two.
Have we not known, nor heard, nor read,.
How God abhors deceit and wrong?
How Ananias was ftruck dead,
Caught with a lie upon his tongue,
So did his wife Sapphira die,
When the came in, and grew fo bold
As to confirm that wicked lie
That just before her husband told.
The Lord delights in them that speak
The words of truth; but ev'ry liar
Must have his portion in the lake
That burns with brimstone and with fire,
Then let me always watch my lips,
Left I be ftruck to death and hell,
Since God a book of reck'ning keeps
For ev'ry lie that children tell.
§ 69. Again Quarrelling and Fighting. W
LET dogs delight to bark and bite,
For God hath made them fo;
Let bears and lions growl and fight,
For 'tis their nature too:
But children, you should never let
Such angry paffions rise;
Your little hands were never made
To tear each others eyes.
Let love through all your actions run,
And all your words be mild;
Live like the bleffed Virgin's Son,
That sweet and lovely Child.
His foul was gentle as a lamb:
And, as his flature grew,
He grew in favour both with man,
And God his Father too.
Now, Lord of all, he reigns above
And from his heav'nly throne
He fees what children dwell in love
And marks them for his own.
But lips that dare be so profane,
To mock and jeer and fcoff
At holy things or holy men,
The Lord thall cut them off.
When children in their wanton play
Serv'd old Elitha se;
And bid the prophet go his way,
Go up, thou bald-head go!"
God quickly flopp'd their wicked breath,
And fent two raging bears,
That tore them limb from limb to death,
With blood, and groans, and tears.
Great God, how terrible art thou
To firmers e'er so young!
Grant me thy grace, and teach me how
To tame and rule my tongue!
And yet how wicked children dare
Abuse thy dreadful glorious name!
And, when they 're angry, how they swear,
And curfe their fellows, and blaspheme!
How will they stand before thy face,
Who treated thee with fuch difdain,
While thou fhalt doom them to the place
Of everlasting fire and pain!.
Then never shall one cooling drop
To quench their burning tongues be given;
But I will praife thee here, and hope
Thus to employ my tongue in heaven.
My heart fhall be in pain to hear
Wretches affront the Lord above;
'Tis that great God whofe pow'r I fear,
That heav'nly Father whom I love.
If my companions grow profane,
I'll leave their friendship when I hear.
Young finners take thy name in vain,
And learn to curfe, and learn to fwear.
§ 73. Against Idleness and Mischief. Watts
How doth the little busy bee
Improve each fhining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From ev'ry op'ning flow'r:
How fkilfully fhe builds her cell!
How neats the fpreads the wax !
And labours hard to store it well
With the sweet food the makes.
In works of labour, or of skill,
I would be busy too;
For Satan finds fome mischief still
For idle hands to do.
In books, or work, or healthful play,
Let my first years be past,
That I may give for ev'ry day
Some good account at last.
$74. Again Evil Company. Watts.
WHY fhould I join with thofe in play
In whom I 've no delight;
Who curfe and fwear, but never pray;
Who call ill names, and fight?
I hate to hear a wanton fong,
Their words offend mine ears;
I fhould not dare defile my tongue
With language fuch as theirs.
Away from fools I'll turn mine eyes,
Nor with the fcoffers go:
$72. Again! Sawearing and Curfing, and taking I would be walking with the wife,
That wifer I may grow.
Gel's Name in vain. Watts. ANGELS, that high in glory dwell, Adore thy name, Almighty God! And devils tremble, down in hell, Beneath the terrors of thy rod.
From one rude boy that's us'd to mock,
They learn the wicked jeft:
One fickly sheep infects the flock,
And poifons all the rest.