Part 47 (2/2)

5 From dust and cottages obscure His grace exalts the humble poor; Gives them the honour of his sons, And fits them for their heavenly thrones.

6 [A word of his creating voice Can make the barren house rejoice: Tho' Sarah's ninety years were past, The promis'd seed is born at last.

7 With joy the mother views her son, And tells the wonders G.o.d has done: Faith may grow strong when sense despairs, If nature fails, the promise bears.]

Psalm 114.

Miracles attending Israel's journey.

1 When Israel, freed from Pharaoh's hand, Left the proud tyrant and his land, The tribes with cheerful homage own Their King, and Judah was his throne.

2 Across the deep their journey lay; The deep divides to make them way: Jordan beheld their march, and fled With backward current to his head.

3 The mountains shook like frighted sheep, Like lambs the little hillocks leap; Not Sinai on her base could stand, Conscious of sovereign power at hand.

4 What power could make the deep divide?

Make Jordan backward roll his tide?

Why did ye leap, ye little hills?

And whence the fright that Sinai feels?

5 Let every mountain, every flood, Retire and know th' approaching G.o.d, The king of Israel: see him here; Tremble, thou earth, adore and fear.

6 He thunders, and all nature mourns, The rock to standing pools he turns; Flints spring with fountains at his word, And fires and seas confess the Lord.

Psalm 115:1. First Metre.

The true G.o.d our refuge; or, Idolatry reproved.

1 Not to ourselves, who are but dust, Not to ourselves is glory due, Eternal G.o.d, thou only just, Thou only gracious, wise, and true.

2 s.h.i.+ne forth in all thy dreadful Name; Why should a heathen's haughty tongue Insult us, and to raise our shame Say, ”Where's the G.o.d you've serv'd so long?”

3 The G.o.d we serve maintains his throne Above the clouds, beyond the skies, Thro' all the earth his will is done, He knows our groans, he hears our cries.

4 But the vain idols they adore Are senseless shapes of stone and wood; At best a ma.s.s of glittering ore, A silver saint, or golden G.o.d.

5 [With eyes, and ears they carve their head, Deaf are their ears, their eyes are blind; In vain are costly offerings made, And vows are scatter'd in the wind.

6 Their feet were never made to move, Nor hands to save when mortals pray; Mortals that pay them fear or love Seem to be blind and deaf as they.]

7 O Israel, make the Lord thy hope, Thy help, thy refuge, and thy rest; The Lord shall build thy ruins up, And bless the people and the priest.

8 The dead no more can speak thy praise, They dwell in silence and the grave; But we shall live to sing thy grace, And tell the world thy power to save.

Psalm 115:2. Second Metre.

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