Thou Righteous Branch, which thence did spring
To give the nations fruit.
2 Our weary souls shall rest
Beneath thy grateful shade;
Our thirsting lips salvation taste;
Our fainting hearts are glad.
Fair Morning-star, arise,
With living glories bright,
And pour on these awakening eyes
A flood of sacred light.
The horrid gloom is fled,
Pierc'd by thy beauteous ray;
Shine, and our wandering footsteps lead
CCCLX. Christ's Invitations echoed back, &c. Revelation xxii. 17.
1 HOW free the fountain flows
Of endless life and joy!
That spring, which no confinement knows,
Whose waters never cloy!
How sweet the accents sound
From the Redeemer's tongue!
"Assemble, all ye nations round,
"In one obedient throng.
"The church, the bride, reflects it back,
"While Jesus waiting stands.
"Ho, every thirsty soul,
Approach the sacred spring;
"Drink, and your fainting spirits cheer;
"Renew the draught, and sing.
5 "Let all, that will, approach;
"The water freely take;
"Free from my opening heart it flows
"Your raging thirst to slake."
With thankful hearts we come
To taste the offered grace;
And call on all that hear to join
The trial, and the praise.
ECCLXI. The Christian rejoicing in the Views of Death and Judgment. Revelation xxii. 20.
BEHOLD I come," the Saviour cries,
"On wings of love I fly:"
"So come, dear Lord," my soul replies,
"And bring salvation nigh."
2 Come, loose these bonds of flesh and sin:
Come, end my pains and cares;
Bear me to thy serene abode
Beyond the clouds and stars.
3 I greet the messengers of death,
By which thou call'st me home;
But doubly greet that joyful hour,
When thou thyself shalt come.
4 Come, plead thy Father's injur'd cause,
And make thy glory shine;
Come, rouse thy servants mouldering dust,
And their whole frame refine.
5 O come amidst the angelic hosts
Their humble name to own;
And bear the full assembly back
To dwell around thy throne.
6 With winged speed, Redeemer dear,
Bring on the illustrious day:
Come, lest our spirits droop and faint.
Beneath thy long delay.
CCCLXII. A Morning Hymn, to be used at awaking and rising.
WAKE, my soul, to meet the day;
Unfold thy drowsy eyes,
And burst the ponderous chain that loads
Thine active faculties.
2 God's guardian-shield was round me spread
In my defenceless sleep:
Let him have all my waking hours,
Who doth my slumbers keep.
3 (The work of each immortal soul
Attentive care demands ;
Think then what painful labours wait
The faithful pastor's hands.)
4 My moments fly with winged pace,
And swift my hours are hurl'd;
And death with rapid march comes on
To unveil the eternal world.
5 I for this hour must give account
Before God's awful throne:
Let not this hour neglected pass,
As thousands more have done.
6 Pardon, O God, my former sloth,
soul with grace;
As, rising now, I seal my vows
To prosecute thy ways.
7 Bright Sun of Righteousness, arise;
Thy radiant beams display,
And guide my dark bewilder'd soul
To everlasting day.
On the necks shall ye trample of Canaan's proud race,
And all their last remnant for slaughter be sought.
8 No rage of your own such rigour demands;
A sentence divine your arms must fulfil:
Of old He this vengeance consign'd to your hands,
And in sacred volumes recorded his will.
9 This honour, ye saints, appointed for you,
All-grateful receive, and faithful obey;
And, while this dread pleasure resistless ye do,
Still make his high praises the song of the day.
CCCLXVII. For the Thanksgiving-Day for the Peace, April 25, 1749.
NOW let our songs address the God of peace,
Who bids the tumult of the battle cease:
The pointed spears to pruning-hooks he bends,
And the broad faulchion in the plow-share ends.
His powerful word unites contending nations
In kind embrace, and friendly salutations.
Britain, adore the guardian of thy state;
Who, high on his celestial throne elate,
Still watchful o'er thy safety and repose,
Frown'd on the counsels of thy haughtiest foes;
Thy coast secur'd from every dire invasion
Of fire and sword and spreading desolation.
When rebel-bands with desperate madness join'd,
He wafted o'er deliverance with his wind;
Drove back the tide, that delug'd half our land,
And curb'd their fury with his mightier hand:
Till dreadful slaughter, and the last confusion
Taught those audacious sinners their delusion.
He gave our fleets to triumph o'er the main,
And scatter terrors 'cross wide ocean's plain:
Opposing leaders trembled at the sight,
Nor found their safety in the attempted flight; Taught by their bonds, how vainly they pretended Those to distress, whom Israel's God defended.
Fierce storms were summon'd up in Britain's aid, And meagre famine hostile lands o'erspread; By sufferings bow'd their conquests they release, Nor scorn the overtures of equal peace: Contending powers congratulate the blessing, Joint hymns of gratitude to heaven addressing. While we beneath our vines and fig-trees sit, Or thus within thy sacred temple meet,
Blest alternative to me,
Thus to sleep, or wake, with thee!
3 What if death my sleep invade!
Should I be of death afraid?
Whilst encircled by thine arm,
Death may strike, but cannot harm.
What if beams of opening day
Shine around my breathless clay!
Brighter visions from on high
Shall regale my mental eye.
Tender friends awhile may mourn
Me from their embraces torn ;
Dearer better friends I have
In the realms beyond the grave.
See the guardian-angels nigh
Wait to waft my soul on high!
See the golden gates display'd!
See the crown to grace my head!
See a flood of sacred light,
Which no more shall yield to night!
Transitory world, farewel!
Jesus calls with him to dwell.
With thy heavenly presence blest,
Death is life, and labour rest.
Welcome sleep, or death to me,
Still secure, for still with thee.
CCCXLIV. On Recovery from Sickness, during which, much of the divine Favour had been experienced.
1 MY God, thy service well demands
The remnant of my days;
Why was this fleeting breath renew'd,
But to renew thy praise?
2 Thine arms of everlasting love
Did this weak frame sustain,
When life was hovering o'er the grave,
And nature sunk with pain.
3 Thou, when the pains of death were felt,
Didst chase the fears of hell;
And teach my pale and quivering lips
Thy matchless grace to tell.
4 Calmly I bow'd my fainting head
On thy dear faithful breast;
Pleas'd to obey my Father's call
To his eternal rest.
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