As judge, shouldst thou my deeds regard,
In justice weighing due award,
How could I stand the trial!
2 With thee should mercy not prevail
To show to man thy favor,
His ev'ry act his guilt would swell,
Vain were his best endeavor.
His goodness, in its utmost length,
Reveals his utter want of strength,-
He must rely on mercy.
3 On God alone, and on his grace,
Can I securely rest me;
He sees my heart, heals my distress,-
To Him, then, why not trust me?
He owns a Father's name, and knows
The full amount of human woes-
On him be my reliance!
4 Should comfort seem afar to keep,
I'll not sink down despairing:
They who in godly sorrow weep
Shall find a gracious hearing:
Thus Christians do, and they are blest
In God, their confidence and rest,
Their comfort and Redeemer.
5 Many and great my sins, I own,
But greater God's free mercies:
From wrath I flee to his dear Son,
Who bore for me its curses:
And he will be my shepherd too,
Will all my troubles guide me through,
To rest with him in glory.
God the refuge of his children.
OD is the refuge of his saints,
When storms of deep distress invade,
Ere we can offer our complaints,
Behold him present with his aid.
2 Let mountains from their seats be hurl'd
Down to the deep, and buried there;
Convulsions shake the solid world:
Our faith shall never yield to fear.
3 Loud may the troubled ocean roar,
In sacred peace our souls abide;
While ev'ry nation, ev'ry shore
Trembles and dreads the swelling tide. 4 Midst storms and tempests, Lord, thy word Does ev'ry rising fear control;
Sweet peace thy promises afford,
And well sustain the fainting soul.
Divine goodness a ground of trust.
1 GIVE to the winds thy fears;
Hope, and be undismay'd:
God hears thy sighs, and counts thy tears,
And shall lift up thy head.
2 Through waves and clouds and storms
He gently clears thy way;
Wait thou his time, so shall this night
Soon end in joyous day.
3 What though thou rulest not?
Yet heav'n, and earth, and hell Proclaim, God sitteth on the throne, And ruleth all things well.
4 Thine everlasting truth,
Father, thy ceaseless love,
Sees all thy children's wants, and knows
What best for each will prove.
5 And whatsoe'er thou will'st,
Thou dost, O King of kings;
What thine unerring wisdom chose,
Thy pow'r to being brings.
6 Let us in life, in death,
Thy steadfast truth declare;
And publish with our latest breath,
Thy love and guardian care.
NOT from relentless fate's dark womb,
Or from the dust, our troubles come.
No fickle chance presides o'er grief,
To cause the pain, or send relief.
2 Look up, and see, ye sorrowing saints!
The cause and cure of your complaints.
Know, 'tis your heav'nly father's will:
Bid ev'ry murmur then be still.
3 He sees we need the painful yoke;
Yet love directs his heaviest stroke.
He takes no pleasure in our smart,
But wounds to heal and cheer the heart.
4 Blest trials those that cleanse from sin,
And make the soul all pure within,
Wean the fond mind from earthly toys,
To seek and taste celestial joys!
God a present help in trouble.
1TO calm the sorrows of the mind,
Our heav'nly Friend is nigh,
To wipe the anxious tear that starts
Or trembles in the eye.
2 Thou canst, when anguish rends the heart, The secret wo control;
The inward malady canst heal,
The sickness of the soul.
3 Thou canst repress the rising sigh;
Canst soothe each mortal care;
And ev'ry deep and heart-felt groan
Is wafted to thine ear.
4 Thy gracious eye is watchful still;
Thy potent arm can save
From threat'ning danger and disease,
And the devouring grave.
5 When, pale and languid all the frame,
The ruthless hand of pain
Arrests the feeble pow'rs of life,
The help of man is vain.
6 'Tis thou, great God! alone canst check
The progress of disease;
And sickness, aw'd by pow'r divine,
The high command obeys.
7 Eternal source of life and health,
And ev'ry bliss we feel!
In sorrow and in joy, to thee
Our grateful hearts appeal.
ET others boast how strong they be,
Nor death nor danger fear;
While we confess, O Lord, to thee,
What feeble things we are.
2 Fresh as the grass our bodies stand,
And flourish bright and gay:
A blasting wind sweeps o'er the land,
And fades the grass away.
3 Our life contains a thousand springs,
And dies if one be gone:
Strange! that a harp of thousand strings
Should keep in tune so long.
4 But 'tis our God supports our frame,
The God that form'd us first:
Salvation to th' almighty name
That rear'd us from the dust.
5 While we have breath, or life, or tongues, Our Maker we'll adore.
His spirit moves our heaving lungs,
Or they would breathe no more.
2 My feet shall never slide
Or fall in fatal snares;
Since God, my guard and guide,
Defends me from my fears.
Those wakeful eyes
That never sleep,
His children keep
When dangers rise.
3 No burning heats by day,
Nor blasts of ev'ning air,
Shall take my health away,
If God be with me there.
Thou art my sun,
And thou my shade,
To guard my head
1 THEY, that have made their refuge God, Shall find a most secure abode;
Shall walk all day beneath his shade,
And there at night shall rest their head.
2 If burning beams of noon conspire
To dart a pestilential fire,
God is their life; his wings are spread,
To shield them 'midst ten thousand dead.
3 If vapors with malignant breath
Rise thick, and scatter midnight death:
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