The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. Containing, besides his Sermons, and Essays on miscellaneous subjects, several additional pieces, Selected from his Manuscripts by the Rev. Dr. Jennings, and the Rev. Dr. Doddridge, in 1753: to which are prefixed, memoirs of the life of the author, compiled by the Rev. George Burder. In six volumes |
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Peace of Conscience and Prayer for Health.
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 | The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. |  |
Peace of Conscience and Prayer for Health.
Yet gracious God, amidst these storms of nature,
Thine eyes beheld a sweet and sacred calm
Reign thro' the realms of conscience: All within
Lies peaceful, and compos'd. 'Tis wondrous grace
Keeps off thy terrors from this humble bosom,
Tho' stain'd with sins and follies, yet serene
In penitential peace and cheerful hope,
Sprinkled and guarded with atoning blood.
Thy vital smiles amidst this desolation
Like heav'nly sun-beams hid behind the clouds,
Break out in happy moments, with bright radiance
Cleaving the gloom; the fair celestial light
Softens and gilds the horrors of the storm,
And richest cordials to the heart conveys.
Thine eyes beheld a sweet and sacred calm
Reign thro' the realms of conscience: All within
Lies peaceful, and compos'd. 'Tis wondrous grace
Keeps off thy terrors from this humble bosom,
Tho' stain'd with sins and follies, yet serene
In penitential peace and cheerful hope,
Sprinkled and guarded with atoning blood.
Thy vital smiles amidst this desolation
Like heav'nly sun-beams hid behind the clouds,
Break out in happy moments, with bright radiance
Cleaving the gloom; the fair celestial light
Softens and gilds the horrors of the storm,
And richest cordials to the heart conveys.
569
O glorious solace of immense distress,
A conscience and a God! A friend at home,
And better friend on high! This is my rock
Of firm support, my shield of sure defence
Against infernal arrows. Rise, my soul,
Put on thy courage: Here's the living spring
Of joys divinely sweet and ever new,
‘A peaceful conscience and a smiling heaven.’
A conscience and a God! A friend at home,
And better friend on high! This is my rock
Of firm support, my shield of sure defence
Against infernal arrows. Rise, my soul,
Put on thy courage: Here's the living spring
Of joys divinely sweet and ever new,
‘A peaceful conscience and a smiling heaven.’
My God, permit a creeping worm to say,
‘Thy Spirit knows I love thee.’ Worthless wretch,
To dare to love a God! But grace requires,
And grace accepts. Thou seest my labouring soul:
Weak as my zeal is, yet my zeal is true;
It bears the trying furnace. Love divine
Constrains me; I am thine. Incarnate love
Has seiz'd and holds me in almighty arms:
Here's my salvation, my eternal hope,
Amidst the wreck of worlds and dying nature,
‘I am the Lord's, and he for ever mine.’
‘Thy Spirit knows I love thee.’ Worthless wretch,
To dare to love a God! But grace requires,
And grace accepts. Thou seest my labouring soul:
Weak as my zeal is, yet my zeal is true;
It bears the trying furnace. Love divine
Constrains me; I am thine. Incarnate love
Has seiz'd and holds me in almighty arms:
Here's my salvation, my eternal hope,
Amidst the wreck of worlds and dying nature,
‘I am the Lord's, and he for ever mine.’
O thou all-powerful Word, at whose first call
Nature arose; this earth, these shining heavens,
These stars in all their ranks came forth, and said,
‘We are thy servants:’ Didst thou not create
My frame, my breath, my being, and bestow
A mind immortal on thy feeble creature
Who faints before thy face? Did not thy pity
Dress thee in flesh to die, that I might live,
And with thy blood redeem this captive soul
From guilt and death? O thrice adored name,
My King, my Saviour, my Immanuel, say,
Have not thy eyelids mark'd my painful toil,
The wild confusions of my shatter'd powers,
And broken fluttering thoughts? Hast thou not seen
Each restless atom, that with vexing influence
Works thro' the mass of man? Each noxious juice,
Each ferment that infects the vital humours,
That heaves the veins with huge disquietude
And spreads the tumult wide? Do they not lie
Beneath thy view, and all within thy reach?
Yes, all at thy command, and must obey
Thy sovereign touch: Thy touch is health and life,
And harmony to nature's jarring strings.
Nature arose; this earth, these shining heavens,
These stars in all their ranks came forth, and said,
‘We are thy servants:’ Didst thou not create
My frame, my breath, my being, and bestow
A mind immortal on thy feeble creature
Who faints before thy face? Did not thy pity
Dress thee in flesh to die, that I might live,
And with thy blood redeem this captive soul
From guilt and death? O thrice adored name,
My King, my Saviour, my Immanuel, say,
Have not thy eyelids mark'd my painful toil,
The wild confusions of my shatter'd powers,
And broken fluttering thoughts? Hast thou not seen
Each restless atom, that with vexing influence
Works thro' the mass of man? Each noxious juice,
Each ferment that infects the vital humours,
That heaves the veins with huge disquietude
And spreads the tumult wide? Do they not lie
Beneath thy view, and all within thy reach?
Yes, all at thy command, and must obey
Thy sovereign touch: Thy touch is health and life,
And harmony to nature's jarring strings.
When shall my midnight-sighs and morning groans
Rise thro' the heights of heaven, and reach thy ear
Propitious? See, my spirit's feeble powers
Exhal'd and breathing upward to thy throne,
Like early incense climbing thro' the sky
From the warm altar. When shall grace and peace
Descend with blessings, like an evening shower
On the parch'd desert, and renew my bloom?
Or must thy creature breathe his soul away
In fruitless groans, and die?
Come, blest physician, come attend the moan
Of a poor suffering wretch, a plaintive worm,
Crush'd in the dust and helpless. O descend,
Array'd in power and love, and bid me rise.
Incarnate goodness, send thy influence down
To these low regions of mortality
Where thou hast dwelt, and clad in fleshly weeds
Learnt sympathetic sorrows; send and heal
My long and sore distress. Ten thousand praises
Attend thee: David's harp is ready strung
For the Messiah's name: A winged flight
Of songs harmonious, and new honours wait
The steps of moving mercy.
Rise thro' the heights of heaven, and reach thy ear
Propitious? See, my spirit's feeble powers
Exhal'd and breathing upward to thy throne,
Like early incense climbing thro' the sky
From the warm altar. When shall grace and peace
Descend with blessings, like an evening shower
On the parch'd desert, and renew my bloom?
Or must thy creature breathe his soul away
In fruitless groans, and die?
Come, blest physician, come attend the moan
Of a poor suffering wretch, a plaintive worm,
Crush'd in the dust and helpless. O descend,
Array'd in power and love, and bid me rise.
Incarnate goodness, send thy influence down
To these low regions of mortality
Where thou hast dwelt, and clad in fleshly weeds
Learnt sympathetic sorrows; send and heal
My long and sore distress. Ten thousand praises
Attend thee: David's harp is ready strung
For the Messiah's name: A winged flight
Of songs harmonious, and new honours wait
The steps of moving mercy.
| The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. | |