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DEVOUT ASPIRATIONS.

GREAT God, whose sceptre rules the earth, Distil thy fear into my heart; That, being rapt with holy mirth,

I may proclaim how good thou art: Open my lips, that I may sing Full praises to my God, my King.

Great God, thy garden is defac'd,

The weeds thrive there, thy flowers decay: O call to mind thy promise past,

Restore thou these, cut those away: Till then, let not the weeds have power To starve or stunt the poorest flower.

In all extremes, Lord, thou art still

The mount whereto my hopes do flee; O make my soul detest all ill,

Because so much abhorr'd by thee: Lord, let thy gracious trials shew That I am just, or make me so.

Fountain of life and living breath, Whose mercies never fail or fade, Fill me with life that hath no death;

Fill me with light that hath no shade; Appoint the remnant of my days

To see thy power and sing thy praise.