HYMN 117. (L. M.) Election sovereign and free, Rom. ix. 21–23, 20.
I
Behold the potter and the clay,
He forms his vessels as he please:
Such is our God, and such are we,
The subjects of his high decrees.
II
Doth not the workman's power extend
O'er all the mass, which part to choose
And mould it for a nobler end,
And which to leave for viler use?
III
May not the sovereign Lord on high
Dispense his favours as he will,
Choose some to life while others die,
And yet be just and gracious still?
IV
What if to make his terror known,
He lets his patience long endure,
Suffering vile rebels to go on
And seal their own destruction sure!
V
What if he means to shew his grace,
And his electing love employs
To mark out some of mortal race,
And form them fit for heavenly joys!
VI
Shall man reply against the Lord,
And call his Maker's ways unjust,
The thunder of whose dreadful word
Can crush a thousand worlds to dust?
VII
But, O my soul, if truths so bright
Should dazzle and confound thy sight,
Yet still his written will obey,
And wait the great decisive day.
VIII
Then shall he make his justice known,
And the whole world before his throne
With joy or terror shall confess
The glory of his righteousness.
