Thou brought'st forth Adam from the ground,

And Eve out of his side:

Thy blessing made the earth abound

With there two multiplied.

Those three great leaves, heaven, sea, and land,

Thy name in figures show;

Brutes feel the bounty of thy hand,

But I my Maker know.

Should not I here thy servant be,

Whose creatures serve me here?
My Lord, whom should I fear but thee,
Who am thy creatures' fear!

To whom, Lord, should I sing, but thee,
The maker of my tongue?

Lo other lords would seize on me,
But I to thee belong.

As waters haste unto their sea,
And earth unto its earth,

So let my soul return to thee,

From whom it had its birth.

But, ah! I'm fallen in the night,
And cannot come to thee:

Yet speak the word, "Let there be light”—

It shall enlighten me:

And let thy word, most mighty Lord,

Thy fallen creature raise:

O make me o'er again, and I

Shall sing my Maker's praise.

A SONG OF PRAISE FOR PROVISION.

COME, let us praise our Master's hand, Which gives us daily bread:

Thy house, my Lord, is full of guests,
Thy table richly spread.

Earth is thy table, where thy guests
Do daily sit and feed:

Thy hand carves every one his part,
And suffers none to need.

Naked came I into the world,
And nothing with me brought;
And nothing have I here deserv'd,
Yet have I lacked nought.
I do not bless my lab'ring hand,
My lab'ring head, or chance;
Thy Providence, most gracious God,
Is mine inheritance.

Thy bounty gives me bread with peace,
A table free from strife;
Thy blessing is the staff of bread,
Which is the staff of life.
The people sat in companies,
My Saviour fed them all :
So all the families of the earth
Have tables in God's hall.

The vine and olive-branches too
Are nourish'd by thy care:
Mercies we eat, mercies we drink,
Mercies we daily wear.

Shall I repine against my God

That kept me all my days? Then let my tongue forget to taste When it forgets to praise.

A SONG OF PRAISE FOR THE MORNING.

My God was with me all this night,
And gave me sweet repose:

My God did watch, even whilst I slept,
Or I had never rose.

How many groan'd and wish'd for sleep,
Until they wish'd for day,

Measuring slow hours with their quick pains,
Whilst I securely lay!

Whilst I did sleep all dangers slept,
No thieves did me affright;

Those ev'ning wolves, those beasts of prey,
Disturbers of the night.

No raging flames nor storms did rend
The house that I was in;

I heard no dreadful cries without,
No doleful groans within.

What terrors have I scap'd this night,
Which have on others fell!

My body might have slept its last;

My soul have wak'd in hell.

Sweet rest hath gain'd that strength to me,
Which labour did devour:

My body was in weakness sown,

But it is rais'd in power.

Lord, for the mercies of the night,
My humble thanks I pay;
And unto thee I dedicate

The first-fruits of the day.
Let this day praise thee, O my God,

And so let all my days:
And, O let mine eternal day
Be thine eternal praise.

A SONG OF PRAISE FOR THE EVENING.

Now, from the altar of my heart,

Let incense-flames arise:
Assist me, Lord, to offer up

Mine evening sacrifice.
Awake, my love; awake, my joy;

Awake, my heart and tongue!
Sleep not when mercies loudly call,
Break forth into a song.

Man's life's a book of history;
The leaves thereof are days;

The letters, mercies closely join'd;
The title is thy praise.

This day God was my sun and shield,

My keeper and my guide;

His care was on my frailty shown,
His mercies multiplied.

Minutes and mercies multiplied

Have made up all this day : Minutes came quick; but mercies were More fleet and free than they.

New time, new favour, and new joys
Do a new song require :
Till I should praise thee as I would,
Accept my heart's desire.

A SONG OF PRAISE FOR A GOSPEL MINISTRY.

FAIR are the feet which bring the news

Of gladness unto me:

What happy messengers are these

Which my bless'd eyes do see!
These are the stars which God appoints
For guides unto my way,
To lead me unto Bethlem-town,
Where my dear Saviour lay.

These are my God's ambassadors,
By whom his mind I know;
God's angels in his lower heav'n,
God's trumpeters below.

The trumpet sounds, the dead arise,
Which fell by Adam's hand.
Again the trumpet sounds, and they
Set forth for Canaan's land.

Thy servants speak; but thou, Lord, dost
An hearing ear bestow :

They smite the rock; but thou, my God,
Dost make the waters flow.

They shoot the arrow; but thy hand

Doth drive the arrow home:

They call; but, Lord, thou dost compel,
And then thy guests are come.