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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A Hymn of Praise for Recovery.
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 | The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. |  |
A Hymn of Praise for Recovery.
Happy for man, that the slow circling moons
And long revolving seasons measure out
The tiresome pains of nature! Present woes
Have their sweet periods. Ease and cheerful health
With slow approach (so Providence ordains)
Revisit their forsaken mansion here,
And days of useful life diffuse their dawn
O'er the dark cottage of my weary soul.
My vital powers resume their vigour now,
My spirit feels her freedom, shakes her wings,
Exults and spatiates o'er a thousand scenes,
Surveys the world, and with full stretch of thought
Grasps her ideas; while impatient zeal
Awakes my tongue to praise. What mortal voice
Or mortal hand can render to my God
The tribute due? What altars shall I raise?
What grand inscription to proclaim his mercy
In living lines? Where shall I find a victim
Meet to be offered to his sovereign love,
And solemnize the worship and the joy?
And long revolving seasons measure out
The tiresome pains of nature! Present woes
Have their sweet periods. Ease and cheerful health
With slow approach (so Providence ordains)
Revisit their forsaken mansion here,
And days of useful life diffuse their dawn
O'er the dark cottage of my weary soul.
My vital powers resume their vigour now,
My spirit feels her freedom, shakes her wings,
Exults and spatiates o'er a thousand scenes,
Surveys the world, and with full stretch of thought
Grasps her ideas; while impatient zeal
Awakes my tongue to praise. What mortal voice
Or mortal hand can render to my God
The tribute due? What altars shall I raise?
What grand inscription to proclaim his mercy
In living lines? Where shall I find a victim
Meet to be offered to his sovereign love,
And solemnize the worship and the joy?
Search well, my soul, thro' all the dark recesses
Of nature and self-love, the plies, the folds,
And hollow winding caverns of the heart,
Where flattery hides our sins; search out the foes
Of thy almighty friend; what lawless passions,
What vain desires, what vicious turns of thought
Lurk there unheeded: Bring them forth to view,
And sacrifice the rebels to his honour.
Well he deserves this worship at thy hands,
Who pardons thy past follies, who restores
Thy mouldring fabric, and withholds thy life
From the near borders of a gaping grave.
Of nature and self-love, the plies, the folds,
And hollow winding caverns of the heart,
Where flattery hides our sins; search out the foes
Of thy almighty friend; what lawless passions,
What vain desires, what vicious turns of thought
571
And sacrifice the rebels to his honour.
Well he deserves this worship at thy hands,
Who pardons thy past follies, who restores
Thy mouldring fabric, and withholds thy life
From the near borders of a gaping grave.
Almighty power, I love thee, blissful name,
My healer God; and may my inmost heart
Love and adore for ever! O 'tis good
To wait submissive at thy holy throne,
To leave petitions at thy feet, and bear
Thy frowns and silence with a patient soul.
The hand of mercy is not short to save,
Nor is the ear of heavenly pity deaf
To mortal cries. It notic'd all my groans,
And sighs, and long complaints, with wise delay,
Tho' painful to the sufferer, and thy hand
In proper moment brought desired relief.
My healer God; and may my inmost heart
Love and adore for ever! O 'tis good
To wait submissive at thy holy throne,
To leave petitions at thy feet, and bear
Thy frowns and silence with a patient soul.
The hand of mercy is not short to save,
Nor is the ear of heavenly pity deaf
To mortal cries. It notic'd all my groans,
And sighs, and long complaints, with wise delay,
Tho' painful to the sufferer, and thy hand
In proper moment brought desired relief.
Rise from my couch, ye late enfeebled limbs,
Prove your new strength, and show the effective skill
Of the divine physician; bear away
This tottering body to his sacred threshold:
There, laden with his honours, let me bow
Before his feet; let me pronounce his grace,
Pronounce salvation thro' his dying Son,
And teach this sinful world the Saviour's name.
Then rise, my hymning soul, on holy notes
Tow'rd his high throne; awake, my choicest songs,
Run echoing round the roof, and while you pay
The solemn vows of my distressful hours,
A thousand friendly lips shall aid the praise.
Prove your new strength, and show the effective skill
Of the divine physician; bear away
This tottering body to his sacred threshold:
There, laden with his honours, let me bow
Before his feet; let me pronounce his grace,
Pronounce salvation thro' his dying Son,
And teach this sinful world the Saviour's name.
Then rise, my hymning soul, on holy notes
Tow'rd his high throne; awake, my choicest songs,
Run echoing round the roof, and while you pay
The solemn vows of my distressful hours,
A thousand friendly lips shall aid the praise.
Jesus, great Advocate, whose pitying eye
Saw my long anguish, and with melting heart
And powerful intercession spread'st my woes
With all my groans before the Father-God,
Bear up my praises now; thy holy incense
Shall hallow all my sacrifice of joy,
And bring these accents grateful to his ear.
My heart and life, my lips and every power
Snatch'd from the grasp of death, I here devote
By thy bless'd hands an offering to his name.
Saw my long anguish, and with melting heart
And powerful intercession spread'st my woes
With all my groans before the Father-God,
Bear up my praises now; thy holy incense
Shall hallow all my sacrifice of joy,
And bring these accents grateful to his ear.
My heart and life, my lips and every power
Snatch'd from the grasp of death, I here devote
By thy bless'd hands an offering to his name.
Amen, Hallelujah.
| The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. | |