god

Truth, sincerity, etc.

Phil. 4:8.

Let those who bear the Christian name
Their holy vows fulfil;
The saints, the followers of the Lamb,
Are men of honor still.

True to the solemn oaths they take,
Though to their hurt they swear;
Constant and just to all they speak,
For God and angels hear.

Still with their lips their hearts agree,
Nor flatt'ring words devise;
They know the God of truth can see
Through every false disguise.

They hate th' appearance of a lie

Praise to God for creation and redemption.

Let them neglect thy glory, Lord,
Who never knew thy grace;
But our loud songs shall still record
The wonders of thy praise.

We raise our shouts, O God, to thee,
And send them to thy throne;
All glory to th' united Three,
The undivided One.

'Twas he (and we'll adore his name)
That formed us by a word;
'Tis he restores our ruined frame:
Salvation to the Lord!

Hosannah! let the earth and skies
Repeat the joyful sound

The gospel the power of God to salvation.

Rom. 1:16.

What shall the dying sinner do
That seeks relief for all his woe?
Where shall the guilty conscience find
Ease for the torment of the mind?

How shall we get our crimes forgiv'n?
Or form our natures fit for heav'n?
Can souls all o'er defiled with sin
Make their own powers and passions clean?

In vain we search, in vain we try,
Till Jesus brings his gospel nigh;
'Tis there such power and glory dwell
As save rebellious souls from hell.

Absurdity of infidelity.

1 Cor. 1:26-31.

Shall atheists dare insult the cross
Of our Redeemer, God?
Shall infidels reproach his laws,
Or trample on his blood?

What if he choose mysterious ways
To cleanse us from our faults?
May not the works of sovereign grace
Transcend our feeble thoughts?

What if his gospel bids us fight
With flesh, and self, and sin,
The prize is most divinely bright
That we are called to win.

What if the foolish and the poor

The Christian's hidden life.

Col. 3:3.

O happy soul that lives on high
While men lie grov'lling here
His hopes are fixed above the sky,
And faith forbids his fear.

His conscience knows no secret stings,
While peace and joy combine
To form a life whose holy springs
Are hidden and divine.

He waits in secret on his God,
His God in secret sees;
Let earth be all in arms abroad,
He dwells in heav'nly peace.

His pleasures rise from things unseen,

Condescending grace.

Psa. 138:6.

When the Eternal bows the skies
To visit earthly things,
With scorn divine he turns his eyes
From towers of haughty kings.

He bids his aweful chariot roll
Far downward from the skies,
To visit every humble soul
With pleasure in his eyes.

Why should the Lord that reigns above
Disdain so lofty kings?
Say, Lord, and why such looks of love
Upon such worthless things?

Mortals, be dumb; what creature dares
Dispute his aweful will?

Prayer for deliverance answered.

Isa. 26:12,20,21.

In thine own ways, O God of love,
We wait the visits of thy grace,
Our soul's desire is to thy name,
And the remembrance of thy face.

My thoughts are searching, Lord, for thee
'Mongst the black shades of lonesome night;
My earnest cries salute the skies
Before the dawn restore the light.

Look, how rebellious men deride
The tender patience of my God!
But they shall see thy lifted hand,
And feel the scourges of thy rod.

The nativity of Christ.

Luke 1:30ff; 2:10ff

Behold, the grace appears!
The promise is fulfilled;
Mary, the wondrous virgin, bears,
And Jesus is the child.

[The Lord, the highest God,
Calls him his only Son;
He bids him rule the lands abroad,
And gives him David's throne.

O'er Jacob shall he reign
With a peculiar sway;
The nations shall his grace obtain,
His kingdom ne'er decay.]

To bring the glorious news
A heav'nly form appears;

The triumph of Christ over the enemies of his church.

Isa. 63:1-3, etc.

What mighty man, or mighty God,
Comes travelling in state,
Along the Idumean road,
Away from Bozrah's gate?

The glory of his robes proclaim
'Tis some victorious king:
"'Tis I, the Just, th' Almighty One,
That your salvation bring."

"Why, mighty Lord," thy saints inquire,
"Why thine apparel's red?
And all thy vesture stained like those
Who in the wine-press tread?"

"I by myself have trod the press,

Assurance of heaven.

2 Tim. 4:68,18.

[Death may dissolve my body now,
And bear my spirit home;
Why do my minutes move so slow,
Nor my salvation come?

With heav'nly weapons I have fought
The battles of the Lord;
Finished my course, and kept the faith,
And wait the sure reward.]

God has laid up in heav'n for me
A crown which cannot fade;
The righteous Judge at that great day
Shall place it on my head.

Nor hath the King of grace decreed
This prize for me alone;