Hymns and Spiritual Songs Part 30

Hymn 2:32.

Frailty and Folly.

1 How short and hasty is our life!

How vast our souls' affairs!

Yet senseless mortals vainly strive To lavish out their years.

2 Our days run thoughtlessly along, Without a moment's stay; Just like a story or a song We pa.s.s our lives away.

3 G.o.d from on high invites us home, But we march heedless on, And ever hastening to the tomb, Stoop downwards as we run.

4 How we deserve the deepest h.e.l.l That slight the joys above!

What chains of vengeance should we feel That break such cords of love!

5 Draw us, O G.o.d, with sovereign grace, And lift our thoughts on high, That we may end this mortal race And see salvation nigh.

Hymn 2:33.

The blessed society in heaven.

1 Raise thee, my soul, fly up, and run Thro' every heavenly street, And say, there's nought below the sun That's worthy of thy feet.

2 [Thus will we mount on sacred wings, And tread the courts above; Nor earth, nor all her mightiest things Shall tempt our meanest love.]

3 There on a high majestic throne Th' Almighty Father reigns, And sheds his glorious goodness down On all the blissful plains.

4 Bright like a sun the Saviour sits, And spreads eternal noon, No evenings there, nor gloomy nights, To want the feeble moon.

5 Amidst those ever-s.h.i.+ning skies Behold the sacred Dove, While banish'd sin and sorrow flies From all the realms of love.

6 The glorious tenants of the place Stand bending round the throne; And saints and seraphs sing and praise The infinite Three One.

7 [But O what beams of heavenly grace Transport them all the while!

Ten thousand smiles from Jesus' face, And love in every smile!]

8 [Jesus, and when shall that dear day, That joyful hour appear, When I shall leave this house of clay To dwell amongst them there?]

Hymn 2:34.

Breathing after the Holy Spirit; or, Fervency of devotion desired.

1 Come, holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, With all thy quickening powers, Kindle a flame of sacred love, In these cold hearts of ours.

2 Look, how we grovel here below, Fond of these trifling toys; Our souls can neither fly nor go To reach eternal joys.

3 In vain we tune our formal songs, In vain we strive to rise; Hosannas languish on our tongues, And our devotion dies.

4 Dear Lord! and shall we ever lie At this poor dying rate?

Our love so faint, so cold to thee, And thine to us so great?

5 Come holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, With all thy quickening powers; Come shed abroad a Saviour's love, And that shall kindle ours.

Hymn 2:35.

Praise to G.o.d for creation and redemption.

1 Let them neglect thy glory, Lord, Who never knew thy grace, But our loud songs shall still record The wonders of thy praise.

2 We raise our shouts, O G.o.d, to thee, And send them to thy throne, All glory to th' united Three, The undivided One.

3 'Twas he (and we'll adore his Name) That form'd us by a word, 'Tis he restores our ruin'd frame; Salvation to the Lord.

4 Hosanna! let the earth and skies Repeat the joyful sound, Rocks, hills, and vales, reflect the voice In one eternal round.

Hymn 2:36.

Christ's intercession.

1 Well, the Redeemer's gone T' appear before our G.o.d, To sprinkle o'er the flaming throne With his atoning blood.

2 No fiery vengeance now, Nor burning wrath comes down; If justice call for sinners' blood, The Saviour shews his own.

3 Before his Father's eye Our humble suit he moves, The Father lays his thunder by, And looks, and smiles, and loves.

4 Now may our joyful tongues Our Maker's honour sing, Jesus the priest receives our songs, And bears them to the King.

5 [We bow before his face, And sound his glories high, "Hosanna to the G.o.d of grace "That lays his thunder by.]

6 "On earth thy mercy reigns, "And triumphs all above;"

But, Lord how weak are mortal strains To speak immortal love!

7 [How jarring and how low Are all the notes we sing!

Sweet Saviour, tune our songs anew, And they shall please the King.]

Hymn 2:37.

The same.

1 Lift up your eyes to th' heavenly seats Where your Redeemer stays; Kind intercessor, there he sits, And loves, and pleads, and prays.

2 'Twas well, my soul he dy'd for thee, And shed his vital blood, Appeas'd stern justice on the tree, And then arose to G.o.d.

3 Pet.i.tions now and praise may rise, And saints their offerings bring, The priest with his own sacrifice Presents them to the King.

4 [Let Papists trust what names they please, Their saints and angels boast; We've no such advocates as these, Nor pray to th' heavenly host.]

6 Jesus alone shall bear my cries Up to his Father's throne, He, dearest Lord! perfumes my sighs, And sweetens every groan.