v.1-6
C. M.
The last judgment

The Lord, the Judge, before his throne
Bids the whole earth draw nigh,
The nations near the rising sun,
And near the western sky.

No more shall bold blasphemers say,
"Judgment will ne'er begin;"
No more abuse his long delay
To impudence and sin.

Throned on a cloud our God shall come,
Bright flames prepare his way;
Thunder and darkness, fire and storm,
Lead on the dreadful day.

Heav'n from above his call shall hear,
Attending angels come,

For the Lord's Day Morning.

Lord, in the morning thou shalt hear
My voice ascending high;
To thee will I direct my prayer,
To thee lift up mine eye;

Up to the hills where Christ is gone
To plead for all his saints,
Presenting at his Father's throne
Our songs and our complaints.

Thou art a God, before whose sight
The wicked shall not stand;
Sinners shall ne'er be thy delight,
Nor dwell at thy right hand.

But to thy house will I resort,
To taste thy mercies there;
I will frequent thine holy court,

v.1-8
S. M.
The church is the honor and safety of a nation.

[Great is the Lord our God,
And let his praise be great;
He makes his churches his abode,
His most delightful seat.

These temples of his grace,
How beautiful they stand!
The honors of our native place,
And bulwarks of our land.]

In Zion God is known,
A refuge in distress;
How bright has his salvation shone
Through all her palaces!

When kings against her joined,
And saw the Lord was there,
In wild confusion of the mind

God fights for his church.

Let Zion in her King rejoice;
Though tyrants rage, and kingdoms rise,
He utters his almighty voice,
The nations melt, the tumult dies.

The Lord of old for Jacob fought,
And Jacob's God is still our aid:
Behold the works his hand has wrought,
What desolations he has made!

From sea to sea, through all the shores,
He makes the noise of battle cease;
When from on high his thunder roars,
He awes the trembling world to peace.

He breaks the bow, he cuts the spear

The church's safety and triumph among national desolation.

God is the refuge of his saints,
When storms of sharp distress invade
Ere we can offer our complaints,
Behold him present with his aid.

Let mountains from their seats be hurled
Down to the deep, and buried there,
Convulsions shake the solid world,
Our faith shall never yield to fear.

Loud may the troubled ocean roar,
In sacred peace our souls abide,
While every nation, every shore,
Trembles, and dreads the swelling tide.

There is a stream, whose gentle flow

v.1-8,5,17
C. M.
A song of deliverance from great distress.

I waited patient for the Lord,
He bowed to hear my cry;
He saw me resting on his word,
And brought salvation nigh.

He raised me from a horrid pit,
Where mourning long I lay,
And from my bonds released my feet,
Deep bonds of miry clay.

Firm on a rock he made me stand,
And taught my cheerful tongue
To praise the wonders of his hand,
In a new thankful song.

I'll spread his works of grace abroad;
The saints with joy shall hear,

v.23-87
C. M.
The way and end of the righteous and the wicked.

My God, the steps of pious men
Are ordered by thy will;
Though they should fall, they rise again,
Thy hand supports them still.

The Lord delights to see their ways,
Their virtue he approves;
He'll ne'er deprive them of his grace,
Nor leave the men he loves.

The heav'nly heritage is theirs,
Their portion and their home;
He feeds them now, and makes them heirs
Of blessings long to come.

Wait on the Lord, ye sons of men,

v.1-15
C. M.
The cure of envy, fretfulness, and unbelief.

Why should I vex my soul, and fret
To see the wicked rise?
Or envy sinners waxing great
By violence and lies?

As flowery grass, cut down at noon,
Before the ev'ning fades,
So shall their glories vanish soon
In everlasting shades.

Then let me make the Lord my trust,
And practise all that's good;
So shall I dwell among the just,
And he'll provide me food.

I to my God my ways commit,
And cheerful wait his will;

God's care of the saints; or, Deliverance by prayer.

Lord, I will bless thee all my days,
Thy praise shall dwell upon my tongue
My soul shall glory in thy grace,
While saints rejoice to hear the song.

Come, magnify the Lord with me,
Come, let us all exalt his name;
I sought th' eternal God, and he
Has not exposed my hope to shame.

I told him all my secret grief,
My secret groaning reached his ears;
He gave my inward pains relief;
And calmed the tumult of my fears.

To him the poor lift up their eyes,

Creatures vain, and God all-sufficient.

Blest is the nation where the Lord
Hath fixed his gracious throne,
Where he reveals his heav'nly word,
And calls their tribes his own.

His eye with infinite survey
Does the whole world behold;
He formed us all of equal clay,
And knows our feeble mold.

Kings are not rescued by the force
Of armies from the grave;
Nor speed nor courage of a horse
Can the bold rider save.

Vain is the strength of beasts or men,
To hope for safety thence;
But holy souls from God obtain