6 Or should I try to shun thy sight 7 The veil of night is no disguise, 8 Search, try, O God, my thoughts and heart, If mischief lurks in any part; Correct me where I go astray, · 109. L. M. WATTS. The All-seeing God. Ps. 139. 1 LORD, thou hast searched and seen me through; Thine eye commands with piercing view My rising and my resting hours, My heart and flesh, with all their powers. 2 My thoughts, before they are my own. Are to my God distinctly known; He knows the words I mean to speak, 4 Amazing knowledge, vast and great! 5 O may these thoughts possess my breast, 110. C. M. WATTS. God is everywhere. Ps. 139. 1 In all my vast concerns with thee, To shun thy presence, Lord, or flee 2 Thine all-surrounding sight surveys My public walks, my private ways, 3 My thoughts lie open to the Lord, 4 O wondrous knowledge, deep and high! 5 So let thy grace surround me still, To guard my soul from every ill, 110 111. C. M. WATTS. Wisdom of God in his Works. Ps. 111. . 1 SONGS of immortal praise belong To my almighty God; He has my heart, and he my tongue. To spread his name abroad. 2 How great the works his hand hath wrought; 3 How most exact is nature's frame! 4 Nature and time, and earth and skies, 5 To fear thy power, to trust thy grace, And he's the wisest of our race 112. L. M. WATTS. Goodness of God to Soul and Body. Ps. 103. 1 BLESS, O my soul, the living God, Call home thy thoughts that rove abroad; Let all the powers within me join In work and worship so divine. 2 Bless, O my soul, the God of grace; 3 The vices of the mind he heals, 113. C. M. DODDRIDGE. Mercy of God to the Frailty of Man. Ps. 103. 1 LORD, we adore thy wondrous name, And make that name our trust, Which raised at first this curious frame From mean and lifeless dust. 2 Awhile these frail machines endure, Then know their vital powers no more, 3 Yet, Lord, whate'er is felt or feared, That He, by whom this frame was reared, Its various weakness knows. 4 Thou view'st us with a pitying eye, 5 Gently supported by thy love, Abounding Compassion of God. Ps. 103 1 My soul, repeat his praise, 2 High as the heavens are raised 3 His power subdues our sins, 4 The pity of the Lord To those that fear his name, Is such as tender parents feel; He knows our feeble frame. 5 Our days are as the grass, Or like the morning flower; If one sharp blast sweep o'er the field, It withers in an hour. |