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The word of the Lord standeth sure.
BEGIN, my tongue, some heavenly theme,
And speak some boundless thing; The mighty works or mightier name
Of our eternal King.
Tell of his wondrous faithfulness,
And sound his power abroad;
And the performing God.
Proclaim salvation from the Lord
For wretched dying men :
With an immortal pen.
Engraved as in eternal brass,
The mighty promise shines;
Those everlasting lines.
His very word of grace is strong,
As that which built the skies ; The voice that rolls the stars along,
Speaks all the promises.
He said, “Let the wide heaven be spread :'
And heaven was stretched abroad : Abra'm, I'll be thy God,' he said ; And he was Abra'm's God.
O might I hear thy heavenly tongue
But whisper, 'Thou art mine ! Those gentle words should raise my song
To notes almost divine.
How would my leaping heart rejoice,
And think my heaven secure ! I trust the all-creating voice,
And faith desires no more.
Lord Thou hast been our dwelling place in
OUR God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
And our eternal home!
Under the shadow of thy throne
Thy saints have dwelt secure ;
And our defence is sure.
Before the hills in order stood,
Or earth received her frame,
Thy word commands our flesh to dust,
Return, ye sons of men ;'
And turn to earth again.
A thousand ages in thy sight
Are like an evening gone; Short as the watch that ends the night
Before the rising sun.
[The busy tribes of flesh and blood,
With all their lives and cares,
And lost in following years.
Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away ; They fly forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day.
fields the nations stand, Pleased with the morning light; The flowers beneath the mower's hand,
Lie withering ere 'tis night.]
Our God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come, Be thou our guard while troubles last,
And our eternal home.
Unto the upright there ariseth light in the
GOD moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
And rides upon the storm.
Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-failing skill,
And works his sovereign will.
The clouds ye so much dread,
In blessings on your head.
Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
He hides a smiling face.
His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
But sweet will be the flower.
Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain ;
And he will make it plain.
The word of the Lord endureth for ever.
THE promises I sing,
Which sovereign love hath spoke ; Nor will the eternal King His words of
And stedfast still ;
The mountains melt away
When once the Judge appears ;
The promise shines
Their harmony shall sound
Thro' mine attentive ears, When thunders cleave the ground And dissipate the spheres ;
'Midst all the shock
Of that dread scene,
I stand serene,