Y God, and is thy table spread,
And doth thy cup with love o'erflow? Thither be all thy children led,
And let them all thy goodness know.
2 Oh! let thy table honour'd be,
And furnish'd well with joyful guests!
And may each soul salvation see,
That here its sacred pledges tastes!
3 Revive thy dying churches, Lord!
Bid all our drooping graces live;
More of that energy afford,
A Saviour's blood alone can give.
M Thy gifts are ev'ry ev'ning new;
Y God, how endless is thy love!
And morning mercies, from above,
Gently distil, like early dew.
2 Thou spread'st the curtains of the night,
Great Guardian of my sleeping hours!
Thy sov'reign word restores the light,
And quickens all my drooping pow'rs.
3 I yield those pow'rs to thy command,
To thee I consecrate my days;
Perpetual blessings from thy hand
Demand perpetual songs of praise.
Mive upon
Y God, my everlasting hope,
I live upon thy truth;
Thy hands have held my childhood up,
And strengthen'd all my youth.
2 Still has my life new wonders seen,
Repeated ev'ry year:
Saviour, my days which yet remain,
I trust them to thy care.
3 Oh, fail me not when strength declines,
When hoary hairs arise;
And round me let thy glory shine,
Where'er thy servant dies.
Y God, my King, thy various praise
Shall fill the remnant of my days;
Thy grace employ my grateful tongue,
Till death and glory raise the song.
2 The wings of ev'ry hour shall bear
Some thankful tribute to thine ear;
And ev'ry setting sun shall see
Fresh works of love perform'd for thee.
3 But who can speak thy wondrous deeds!
Thy greatness all our thoughts exceeds;
Vast and unsearchable thy ways;
Loud and eternal be thy praise!
Y God, the spring of all my joys,
The life of my delights,
The glory of my brightest days,
And comfort of my nights!
2 In darkest shades, if thou appear,
My dawning is begun :
Thou art my soul's bright morning star,
And thou my rising sun.
3 The op'ning heav'ns around I see
With beams of mercy shine e;
While Jesus shews his love to me,
And tells me, "Thou art mine."
4 My soul, at that inspiring word,
Would tread down ev'ry foe;
Thy pow'r and presence, gracious Lord,
Shall bear me conqu'ror through.
1 MY Shepherd will supply my need ;
Jehovah is his name;
In pastures green he makes me feed,
Beside the living stream.
2 He brings my wand'ring spirit back,
When I forsake his ways;
And leads me, for his mercy's sake,
In paths of truth and grace.
3 When I walk through the shades of death,
Thy presence is my stay;
A word of thy supporting breath
Drives all my fears away.
4 Thy hand, in sight of all my foes,
Doth still my table spread;
My cup with blessings overflows,
Thine oil anoints my head.
5 The sure provisions of my God
Attend me all my days:
Oh, may thy house be my abode,
And all my work be praise!
MY song shall bless the Lord of all;
My praise shall rise to his abode :
Thee, Saviour, by that name I call,
The Great, Supreme, Almighty God!
2 Without beginning or decline,
Object of faith, and not of sense!
Eternal ages saw him shine :—
He shines eternal ages hence.
3 As much, when in the manger laid,
Almighty Ruler of the sky,
As when the six days' work he made,
And fill'd the morning stars with joy.
4 As man, he pities my complaint;
His pow'r and truth are all divine;
He will not fail, he cannot faint:
Lord, make thy full salvation mine!
1 MY soul, dismiss thy fears;
Hope, and be undismay'd;
God hears thy sighs, he counts thy tears;
God shall lift up thy head.
2 Through waves, through clouds, and storms,
He gently clears thy way:
Wait thou his time; so shall the night
Soon end in joyous day.
3 When he makes bare his arm,
What shall his work withstand?
When he his people's cause defends,
Who-who shall stay his hand?
MY soul lies cleaving to the dust:
Lord, give me grace to rise:
From vain desires, and ev'ry lust,
Turn off these wand'ring eyes.
2 I need the blessing of thy grace
To speed me in thy way,
Lest I should loiter in my race,
Or turn my feet astray.
3 Are not thy mercies sov'reign still,
And thou a faithful God?
Wilt thou not grant me warmer zeal,
To tread the heav'nly road?
4 Then shall I love thy Gospel more,
And ne'er forget thy word,
When I have felt its quick'ning pow'r
To draw me near the Lord.
Y soul, repeat his praise,
Whose mercies are so great;
Whose anger is so slow to rise,
So ready to abate.
2 High as the heav'ns are rais'd
Above the ground we tread,
So far the riches of his grace
Our highest thoughts exceed.
3 His pow'r subdues our sins;
And his forgiving love,
Far as the east is from the west,
Doth all our guilt remove.
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