spring

The blessings of the spring; or, God gives rain.
A Psalm for the husbandman.

Good is the Lord, the heav'nly King,
Who makes the earth his care;
Visits the pastures ev'ry spring,
And bids the grass appear.

The clouds, like rivers raised on high,
Pour out at thy command
Their wat'ry blessings from the sky,
To cheer the thirsty land.

The softened ridges of the field
Permit the corn to spring;
The valleys rich provision yield,
And the poor lab'rers sing.

Praise for protection, grace, and truth.

My God, in whom are all the springs
Of boundless love, and grace unknown,
Hide me beneath thy spreading wings,
Till the dark cloud is overblown.

Up to the heav'ns I send my cry,
The Lord will my desires perform;
He sends his angel from the sky,
And saves me from the threat'ning storm.

Be thou exalted, O my God,
Above the heav'ns, where angels dwell;
Thy power on earth be known abroad,
And land to land thy wonders tell.

Original and actual sin confessed.

Lord, I am vile, conceived in sin;
And born unholy and unclean;
Sprung from the man whose guilty fall
Corrupts the race, and taints us all.

Soon as we draw our infant breath,
The seeds of sin grow up for death;
Thy law demands a perfect heart,
But we're defiled in every part.

[Great God, create my heart anew,
And form my spirit pure and true;
O make me wise betimes to spy
My danger and my remedy.]

Behold, I fall before thy face;

v.5-9
L. M.
The perfections and providence of God.

High in the heav'ns, eternal God,
Thy goodness in full glory shines
Thy truth shall break through every cloud
That veils and darkens thy designs.

For ever firm thy justice stands,
As mountains their foundations keep;
Wise are the wonders of thy hands;
Thy judgments are a mighty deep.

Thy providence is kind and large,
Both man and beast thy bounty share;
The whole creation is thy charge,
But saints are thy peculiar care.

Summer and winter.
A Song for Great Britain.

O Britain, praise thy mighty God,
And make his honors known abroad,
He bid the ocean round thee flow;
Not bars of brass could guard thee so.

Thy children are secure and blest;
Thy shores have peace, thy cities rest;
He feeds thy sons with finest wheat,
And adds his blessing to their meat.

Thy changing seasons he ordains,
Thine early and thy latter rains;
His flakes of snow like wool he sends,
And thus the springing corn defends.

v.7-9,13-18
C. M.
The seasons of the year.

With songs and honors sounding loud,
Address the Lord on high;
Over the heav'ns he spreads his cloud,
And waters veil the sky.

He sends his showers of blessing down
To cheer the plains below;
He makes the grass the mountains crown,
And corn in valleys grow.

He gives the grazing ox his meat,
He hears the raven's cry;
But man, who tastes his finest wheat,
Should raise his honors high.

His steady counsels change the face

Brotherly love.

Lo! what an entertaining sight
Are brethren that agree!
Brethren, whose cheerful hearts unite
In bands of piety!

When streams of love from Christ the spring
Descend to every soul,
And heav'nly peace, with balmy wing,
Shades and bedews the whole;

'Tis like the oil, divinely sweet,
On Aaron's reverend head
The trickling drops perfumed his feet,
And o'er his garments spread.

'Tis pleasant as the morning dews
That fall on Zion's hill,

Persecutors punished.

Up from my youth, may Isr'el say,
Have I been nursed in tears;
My griefs were constant as the day,
And tedious as the years.

Up from my youth I bore the rage
Of all the sons of strife;
Oft they assailed my riper age,
But not destroyed my life.

Their cruel plow had torn my flesh
With furrows long and deep;
Hourly they vexed my wounds afresh,
Nor let my sorrows sleep.

The Lord grew angry on his throne,
And, with impartial eye,

The word of God is the saint's portion.

ver. 111, paraphrased.

Lord, I have made thy word my choice,
My lasting heritage;
There shall my noblest powers rejoice,
My warmest thoughts engage.

I'll read the histories of thy love,
And keep thy laws in sight,
While through the promises I rove,
With ever fresh delight.

'Tis a broad land of wealth unknown,
Where springs of life arise,
Seeds of immortal bliss are sown,
And hidden glory lies.

The best relief that mourners have,

Miracles attending Israel's journey.

When Isr'el, freed from Pharaoh's hand,
Left the proud tyrant and his land,
The tribes with cheerful homage own
Their King, and Judah was his throne.

Across the deep their journey lay;
The deep divides to make them way;
Jordan beheld their march, and fled
With backward current to his head.

The mountains shook like frighted sheep,
Like lambs the little hillocks leap;
Not Sinai on her base could stand,
Conscious of sovereign power at hand.