 | The Works of William Mason |  |
483
PSALM CXXI.
The hills, the heav'nly hills my eyes
With zeal explore, with joy survey,
Whence God, who form'd the world and skies,
Supports my feet, directs my way.
To those who his wise dictates keep,
That God, that guardian ne'er will sleep.
With zeal explore, with joy survey,
Whence God, who form'd the world and skies,
Supports my feet, directs my way.
To those who his wise dictates keep,
That God, that guardian ne'er will sleep.
No: ever wakeful, ever kind,
He still will watch his favor'd race,
No change of seasons they shall find,
For, shaded by his saving grace,
No noontide blaze shall scorch their head,
No midnight chill infest their bed.
He still will watch his favor'd race,
No change of seasons they shall find,
For, shaded by his saving grace,
No noontide blaze shall scorch their head,
No midnight chill infest their bed.
Where'er they move, where'er they rest,
His smile of mercy, strength of pow'r,
Through life, to death, shall shield their breast,
And give new blessings every hour;
Not time itself his love can bound,
It rolls in one eternal round.
His smile of mercy, strength of pow'r,
Through life, to death, shall shield their breast,
And give new blessings every hour;
Not time itself his love can bound,
It rolls in one eternal round.
| The Works of William Mason | |