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Descend from heaven, immortal Dove

Author: Isaac Watts Hymnal: The Psalms and Hymns of Dr. Watts #344 (1835) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Topics: Pride and atheism, and oppression punished Lyrics: Descend from heav'n, immortal Dove, Stoop down and take us on thy wings, And mount and bear us far above The reach of these inferior things: Beyond, beyond this lower sky, Up where eternal ages roll; Where solid pleasures never die, And fruits immortal feast the soul. O for a sight, a pleasing sight Of our Almighty Father's throne! There sits our Savior crowned with light, Clothed in a body like our own. Adoring saints around him stand, And thrones and powers before him fall; The God shines gracious through the man, And sheds sweet glories on them all. O what amazing joys they feel While to their golden harps they sing, And sit on every heav'nly hill, And spread the triumphs of their King! When shall the day, dear Lord, appear, That I shall mount to dwell above, And stand and bow amongst them there, And view thy face, and sing, and love? Scripture: Psalm 12 Languages: English

All ye that love the Lord, rejoice

Author: Isaac Watts Hymnal: The Psalms and Hymns of Dr. Watts #407 (1835) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Topics: Persecutors punished Lyrics: All ye that love the Lord, rejoice, And let your songs be new; Amidst the church with cheerful voice His later wonders show. The Jews, the people of his grace, Shall their Redeemer sing; And Gentile nations join the praise, While Zion owns her King. The Lord takes pleasure in the just, Whom sinners treat with scorn; The meek that lie despised in dust Salvation shall adorn. Saints should be joyful in their King, E'en on a dying bed; And like the souls in glory sing; For God shall raise the dead. Then his high praise shall fill their tongues Their hands shall wield the sword; And vengeance shall attend their songs, The vengeance of the Lord. When Christ the judgment-seat ascends, And bids the world appear, Thrones are prepared for all his friends Who humbly loved him here. Then shall they rule with iron rod Nations that dared rebel; And join the sentence of their God On tyrants doomed to hell. The royal sinners bound in chains New triumphs shall afford: Such honor for the saints remains; Praise ye, and love the Lord! Scripture: Psalm 149 Languages: English

Sing to the Lord Jehovah's name

Author: Isaac Watts Hymnal: The Psalms and Hymns of Dr. Watts #448 (1835) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Topics: Unbelief punished Lyrics: Sing to the Lord Jehovah's name, And in his strength rejoice; When his salvation is our theme, Exalted be our voice. With thanks approach his awful sight, And psalms of honor sing; The Lord's a God of boundless might, The whole creation's King. Let princes hear, let angels know, How mean their natures seem, Those gods on high and gods below, When once compared with him. Earth, with its caverns dark and deep, Lies in his spacious hand; He fixed the seas what bounds to keep, And where the hills must stand. Come, and with humble souls adore, Come, kneel before his face O may the creatures of his power Be children of his grace! Now is the time; he bends his ear, And waits for your request; Come, lest he rouse his wrath and swear, "Ye shall not see my rest." Scripture: Psalm 95 Languages: English

Come, sound his praise abroad

Author: Isaac Watts Hymnal: The Psalms and Hymns of Dr. Watts #449 (1835) Meter: 6.6.8.6 Topics: Unbelief punished Lyrics: Come, sound his praise abroad, And hymns of glory sing; Jehovah is the sovereign God, The universal King. He formed the deeps unknown; He gave the seas their bound; The wat'ry worlds are all his own, And all the solid ground. Come, worship at his throne; Come, bow before the Lord: We are his works, and not our own; He formed us by his word. Today attend his voice, Nor dare provoke his rod; Come, like the people of his choice, And own your gracious God. But if your ears refuse The language of his grace, And hearts grow hard, like stubborn Jews, That unbelieving race; The Lord, in vengeance dressed, Will lift his hand and swear, "You that despise my promised rest Shall have no portion there." Scripture: Psalm 95 Languages: English

Come, let our voices join to raise

Author: Isaac Watts Hymnal: The Psalms and Hymns of Dr. Watts #450 (1835) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Topics: Unbelief punished Lyrics: Come, let our voices join to raise A sacred song of solemn praise; God is a sovereign King, rehearse His honors in exalted verse. Come, let our souls address the Lord, Who framed our natures with his word; He is our Shepherd; we the sheep His mercy chose, his pastures keep. Come, let us hear his voice today, The counsels of his love obey; Nor let our hardened hearts renew The sins and plagues that Isr'el knew. Isr'el, that saw his works of grace, Yet tempt their Maker to his face; A faithless, unbelieving brood, That tired the patience of their God. Thus saith the Lord: "How false they prove Forget my power, abuse my love! Since they despise my rest, I swear, Their feet shall never enter there." [Look back, my soul, with holy dread, And view those ancient rebels dead; Attend the offered grace today, Nor lose the blessing by delay. Seize the kind promise while it waits, And march to Zion's heav'nly gates: Believe, and take the promised rest; Obey, and be for ever blest.] Scripture: Psalm 95:6-11 Languages: English

Up from my youth, may Israel say

Author: Isaac Watts Hymnal: The Psalms and Hymns of Dr. Watts #466 (1835) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Topics: Persecutors punished Lyrics: Up from my youth, may Isr'el say, Have I been nursed in tears; My griefs were constant as the day, And tedious as the years. Up from my youth I bore the rage Of all the sons of strife; Oft they assailed my riper age, But not destroyed my life. Their cruel plow had torn my flesh With furrows long and deep; Hourly they vexed my wounds afresh, Nor let my sorrows sleep. The Lord grew angry on his throne, And, with impartial eye, Measured the mischiefs they had done, Then let his arrows fly. How was their insolence surprised To hear his thunders roll! And all the foes of Zion seized With horror to the soul! Thus shall the men that hate the saints Be blasted from the sky; Their glory fades, their courage faints And all their projects die. [What though they flourish tall and fair, They have no root beneath; Their growth shall perish in despair, And lie despised in death.] [So corn that on the house-top stands No hope of harvest gives; The reaper ne'er shall fill his hands, Nor binder fold the sheaves. It springs and withers on the place; No traveller bestows A word of blessing on the grass, Nor minds it as he goes.] Scripture: Psalm 129 Languages: English