peace

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,
Their faces feel the heav'nly shine;

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
Supplies the city of our God,

Great God, whose universal sway
The known and unknown worlds obey,
Now give the kingdom to thy Son,
Extend his power, exalt his throne.

The scepter well becomes his hands;
All heaven submits to his commands;
His justice shall avenge the poor,
And pride and rage prevail no more.

With power he vindicates the just,
And treads the oppressor in the dust:
His worship and his fear shall last
Till the full course of time be past.

As rain on meadows newly mown,
So shall he send his influence down:

My God, how many are my fears!
How fast my foes increase!
Conspiring my eternal death,
They break my present peace.

The lying tempter would persuade
There's no relief from heaven;
And all my swelling sins appear
Too big to be forgiven.

But thou, my glory and my strength,
Shall on the tempter tread,
Shall silence all my threat'ning guilt,
And raise my drooping head.

I cried, and from his holy hill
He bowed a list'ning ear;
I called my Father, and my God,
And He subdued my fear.

See you the ferny ride that steals
Into the oak-woods far?
O that was whence they hewed the keels
That rolled to Trafalgar.

And mark you where the ivy clings
To Bayham's mouldering walls?
O there we cast the stout railings
That stand around St. Paul's.

See you the dimpled track that runs
All hollow through the wheat?
O that was where they hauled the guns
That smote King Philip's fleet.

(Out of the Weald, the secret Weald,
Men sent in ancient years,

A Psalm for the Lord's day.

Sweet is the work, my God, my King,
To praise thy name, give thanks and sing,
To show thy love by morning light,
And talk of all thy truth at night.

Sweet is the day of sacred rest,
No mortal cares shall seize my breast;
O may my heart in tune be found,
Like David's harp of solemn sound!

My heart shall triumph in my Lord,
And bless his works, and bless his word;
Thy works of grace, how bright they shine!
How deep thy counsels! how divine!

v.15ff
C. M.
A blessed gospel.

Blest are the souls that hear and know
The gospel's joyful sound;
Peace shall attend the path they go,
And light their steps surround.

Their joy shall bear their spirits up
Through their Redeemer's name;
His righteousness exalts their hope,
Nor Satan dares condemn.

The Lord, our glory and defence,
Strength and salvation gives;
Isr'el, thy King for ever reigns,
Thy God for ever lives.

v.9ff
L. M.
Salvation by Christ.

Salvation is for ever nigh
The souls that fear and trust the Lord
And grace descending from on high
Fresh hopes of glory shall afford.

Mercy and truth on earth are met,
Since Christ the Lord came down from heav'n;
By his obedience so complete,
Justice is pleased, and peace is giv'n.

Now truth and honor shall abound,
Religion dwell on earth again,
And heav'nly influence bless the ground
In our Redeemer's gentle reign.

v.1-8
L. M.
Waiting for an answer to prayer; or, Deliverance begun and completed.

Lord, thou hast called thy grace to mind,
Thou hast reversed our heavy doom;
So God forgave when Isr'el sinned,
And brought his wand'ring captives home.

Thou hast begun to set us free,
And made thy fiercest wrath abate;
Now let our hearts be turned to thee,
And thy salvation be complete.

Revive our dying graces, Lord,
And let thy saints in thee rejoice;
Make known thy truth, fulfil thy word;

A complaint against persecutors.

And will the God of grace
Perpetual silence keep?
The God of justice hold his peace,
And let his vengeance sleep?

Behold, what cursed snares
The men of mischief spread!
The men that hate thy saints and thee
Lift up their threat'ning head.

Against thy hidden ones
Their counsels they employ,
And malice, with her watchful eye,
Pursues them to destroy.

The noble and the base
Into thy pastures leap;
The lion and the stupid ass