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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Grace shining and Nature fainting.
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 | The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. |  |
Grace shining and Nature fainting.
Sol. Song i. 3. and ii. 5. and vi. 5.
I.
Tell me, fairest of thy kind,Tell me, Shepherd, all divine,
Where this fainting head reclin'd
May relieve such cares as mine:
Shepherd, lead me to thy grove;
If burning noon infect the sky
The sick'ning sheep to covert fly,
The sheep not half so faint as I,
Thus overcome with love.
II.
Say, thou dear Sov'reign of my breast,Where dost thou lead thy flock to rest:
Why should I appear like one
Wild and wand'ring all alone,
Unbeloved and unknown?
O my great Redeemer, say,
Shall I turn my feet astray!
Will Jesus bear to see me rove,
To see me seek another love?
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III.
Ne'er had I known his dearest name,Ne'er had I felt this inward flame,
Had not his heart-strings first began the tender sound:
Nor can I bear the thought, that he
Should leave the sky,
Should bleed and die,
Should love a wretch so vile as me
Without returns of passion for his dying wound.
IV.
His eyes are glory mix'd with grace;In his delightful awful face
Sits majesty and gentleness.
So tender is my bleeding heart
That with a frown he kills;
His absence is perpetual smart,
Nor is my soul refin'd enough
To bear the beaming of his love,
And feel his warmer smiles.
Where shall I rest this drooping head;
I love, I love the sun, and yet I want the shade.
V.
My sinking spirits feebly striveT'endure the ecstasy;
Beneath these rays I cannot live,
And yet without them die.
None knows the pleasure and the pain
That all my inward pow'rs sustain
But such as feel a Saviour's love, and love the God again.
VI.
O why should beauty heav'nly brightStoop to charm a mortal's sight,
And torture with the sweet excess of light?
Our hearts, alas! how frail their make!
With their own weight of joy they break;
Oh! why is love so strong, and nature's self so weak?
VII.
Turn, turn away thine eyes,Ascend the azure hills, and shine
Amongst the happy tenants of the skies;
They can sustain a vision so divine.
O turn thy lovely glories from me,
The joys are too intense, the glories overcome me.
VIII.
Dear Lord, forgive my rash complaint,And love me still
Against my froward will;
Unveil thy beauties, tho' I faint.
Send the great herald from the sky,
And at the trumpet's awful roar
This feeble state of things shall fly,
And pain and pleasure mix no more:
Then shall I gaze with strengthened sight
On glories infinitely bright,
My heart shall all be love, my Jesus all delight.
| The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. | |