Hymn LXIX. In a Time of Famine.
[_]
Famine is one of the three great Plagues whereby
God usually corrects a sinfull Nation; and by this
Hymn we are taught how to addresse our complaints to God, in this Visitation, &c.
Sing this as the 22. Psalme.
[1]
By Mercies and by Iudgements, Lord!
We have bin often tride,
In disobeying of thy Word,
How constant we abide:
For, when we gently are chastis'd,
We stubborn-hearted be;
And, when our longings are suffic'd,
We kick, and spurn at Thee.
2
For, which thou quite might'st us refuse,
And, say, as heretofore
Thou say'st unto the stubborn Jewes:
J will correct no more.
But, still, thy Love to us is true;
And, ev'ry means doth find
By which thou maist compassion shew,
And, be both Iust and Kind.
3
The Plenties which we lately had,
By us, abused were.
And, Thou a Scarcenesse now hast made,
By which we pinched are.
If thou hadst left us to our Sin,
By feeding our Excesse;
That Vengeance had the greater bin,
Though it had seemed lesse.
4
Thou, still, proceed'st with Chastisement
In such a loving wise;
That we may be the Punishment,
Find where our Error lies.
And, if we be not hardned quite,
We by the Stripes may see
That, thou in Mercy hast delight;
Though strokes inflicted be.
5
Yea, though this Famine pincheth sore,
Good Symptomes we may find,
That, thou in Anger evermore
Remembrest to be kind,
And, still, some blessings are injoy'd,
By which we hope retain,
That, quite we shall not be destroid,
Though we in want, remain.
6
Where Milk and Hony overflow'd
Lean Famine breaketh in,
When Plenty, late her Bounty shew'd,
A Dearth doth now begin.
And, they who had the finest bread,
The fattest of thy Meat;
And were with many dainties fed,
Have little now to eat.
7
But Lord, once more to us return,
Though we unworthy are:
Consider how the poore do mourn,
And what the Rich may fear.
Forgive the Sins which have bereft,
The Plenties which we had;
And, let the portion which is left,
By thee, be larger made.
8
Oh! hear us, though we still offend,
Augment our wasted store:
Into this Land, that Plenty send,
Which fil'd it heretofore.
Then, give us grace, to use it so,
That thou mai'st pleased be;
And, that when fuller we shall grow,
We think not lesse on Thee.
