The days of old, in vision, Bring vanish'd bliss to view; The years Their joys in pangs renew: Remember'd songs of gladness, Through night's lone silence brought, Strike notes of deeper sadness, And stir desponding thought. Hath God cast off for ever? I call to recollection The years of his right hand; Shall utter forth thy praise. Thee, with the tribes assembled, Thy way is in great waters, Through the wild sea Thou leddest PSALM LXXX. Or old, O God! thine own right hand It sought the sun, and drank the rain. Its scions in the dust are laid; Rank o'er the ruin springs the thorn, The wild boar wallows in the shade. Lord God of Hosts! thine ear incline, Change into songs thy people's fears; Return, and visit this thy vine, Revive thy work amidst the years. The plenteous and continual dew Of thy rich blessing here descend; So shall thy vine its leaf renew, Till o'er the earth its branches bend. Then shall it flourish wide and far, While realms beneath its shadow rest; The morning and the evening star Shall mark its bounds from east to west. So shall thine enemies be dumb, Thy banish'd ones no more enslaved, The fulness of the Gentiles come, And Israel's youngest born be saved. PSALM LXXXIV. How amiable, how fair, O Lord of Hosts! to me Thy tabernacles are! My flesh cries out for Thee; My heart and soul, with heaven-ward fire The sparrow here finds place To build her little nest; The swallow's wandering race Hither return and rest; Beneath thy roof their young ones cry, And round thine altar learn to fly. Thrice-blessed they who dwell Within thine house, my God! Where daily praises swell, By those, who in thy presence bow, As pilgrims when they pass, The well-springs never fail, Fresh rain renews the grass; From strength to strength they journey still, Lord God of Hosts! give ear, Behold, O God! our shield; And save through thy beloved Son. Lord! I would rather stand A keeper at thy gate, Than on the king's right hand In tents of worldly state; One day within thy courts, one day, God is a sun of light, Glory and grace to shed; God is a shield of might, To guard the faithful head: O Lord of Hosts! how happy he, PSALM XC. LORD! Thou hast been thy people's rest Thou, ere the mountains sprang to birth, Or ever thou hadst form'd the earth, The sons of men return to clay, When Thou the word hast spoken, As with a torrent borne away, Gone like a dream when broken: At morn, we flourish like the grass With dew and sunbeams lighted, Eut ere the cool of evening pass, The rich array is blighted: Thus do thy chastisements consume Youth's tender leaf and beauty's bloom; We fade at thy displeasure. Our life is like the transient breath That tells a mournful story; Early or late, stopt short by death; Lo! thou hast set before thine eyes Lord! teach us so to mark our days, That we may Restore our comforts as our fears, Give to thy church, through changing years, Thy glorious beauty there reveal, And with thy perfect image seal Thy servants and their labours. PSALM XCI. CALL Jehovah thy salvation, Rest beneath th' Almighty's shade; In his secret habitation Dwell, nor ever be dismay'd: There no tumult can alarm thee, Thou shalt dread no hidden snare; |