HYMNS AND PSALMS.

SUPPLEMENT.

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GOD

1. L.M. WATTS.

A Morning Hymn.

OD of the morning, at whose voice
The cheerful sun makes haste to rise,
And like a giant doth rejoice

5 Give me thy counsel for my guide,
And then receive me to thy bliss :
All my desires and hopes beside
Are faint and cold compar'd with this.

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2. C.M. WATTS.

The Lord's Day welcomed.

WELCOME, sweet day of rest,

Which saw the saviour rise;
Welcome to this reviving breast,
And these rejoicing eyes!

2 Our Gon himself comes near,
And feasts his saints to-day;
Here we may sit and see him here,
And love, and praise, and pray.

3 One day amidst the place,

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In which our God hath been,
Is sweeter than ten thousand days
Of pleasurable sin.

3. C.M. WATTS.

The divine perfections.

HOW
OW shall we praise th' eternal God,

3 Those watchful eyes that never sleep, Survey the world around; His wisdom is a boundless deep, Where all our thoughts are drown'd. 4 Speak we of strength? his arm is strong, To save or to destroy: Infinite years his life prolong,

And endless is his joy.

5 He knows no shadow of a change,

Nor alters his decrees;

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Firm as a rock his truth remains,
To guard his promises.

4. L.M. WATTS.

The incomprehensible nature of GOD.

GOD is a king of power unknown;

Firm are the orders of his throne:

If he resolve, who dare oppose,
Or ask him why, or what, he does ?

2 He wounds the heart, and he makes whole;
He calms the tempest of the soul:
When he shuts up in long despair,
Who can remove the heavy bar?

3 He frowns, and darkness veils the moon;
The fainting sun grows dim at noon;
The pillars of heav'n's starry roof
Tremble and start at his reproof.

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These are a portion of his ways-
But who can utter all his praise?
Who can endure his light, or stand
To hear the thunders of his hand?

5. PECULIAR MEASURE. Tate.

Praise to GOD.

YE boundless realms of joy,
Exalt your maker's fame:

His praise your song employ
Above the starry frame :

Your voices raise,
Ye cherubim

And seraphim

To sing his praise.

Thou moon, that rul'st the night,
And sun that guid'st the day,

Ye glitt'ring stars of light,
To him your homage pay:

His praise declare

Ye heav'ns above,
And clouds that move
In liquid air.

Let them adore the Lord,
And praise his holy name,
By whose almighty word
They all from nothing came;
And all shall last

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6.

L.M. MRS. BARBAULD.

WHEN,

The sacrifice of the beart.

HEN, as returns this solemn day, Man comes to meet his maker, God, What rights, what honours shall he pay? How spread his sov'reign's praise abroad? 2 From marble domes and gilded spires Shall curling clouds of incense rise? And gems, and gold, and garlands deck The costly pomp of sacrifice?