5 White lilies all around appear, And each his glory shows; The rose of Sharon blossoms here, The fairest flower that blows. 6 Cheerful I feast on heavenly fruit, And drink the pleasures down, Pleasures that flow hard by the foot Of the eternal throne.] 7 But ah! how soon my joys decay, How soon my sins arise, And snatch the heavenly scene away From these lamenting eyes! 8 When shall the time, dear Jesus, when The shining day appear, That I shall leave those clouds of sin, And guilt and darkness here? 9 Up to the fields above the skies My hasty feet would go, There everlasting flowers arise, And joys unwithering grow. Hymn 2:60. The truth of God the promiser; or, The promises are our security. 1 Praise, everlasting praise be paid To him that earth's foundations laid; Praise to the God whose strong decrees Sway the creation as he please. 2 Praise to the goodness of the Lord Who rules his people by his word, And there as strong as his decrees He sets his kindest promises. 3 [Firm are the words his prophets give, Sweet words on which his children live; Each of them is the voice of God, Who spoke and spread the skies abroad. 4 Each of them powerful as that sound That bid the new-made heavens go round; And stronger than the solid poles, On which the wheel of nature rolls.] 5 Whence then should doubts and fears arise, Why trickling sorrows drown our eyes? Slowly, alas, our mind receives The comforts that our Maker gives. 6 O for a strong, a lasting faith To credit what th' almighty saith! T' embrace the message of his Son, And call the joys of heaven our own. 7 Then should the earth's old pillars shake, And all the wheels of nature break, Our steady souls should fear no more Than solid rocks when billows roar. 8 Our everlasting hopes arise Above the ruinable skies, Where the eternal Builder reigns, And his own courts his power sustains. Hymn 2:61. A thought of death and glory. 1 My soul, come meditate the day, And think how near it stands, When thou must quit this house of clay, And fly to unknown lands. 2 [And you, mine eyes, look down and view The hollow gaping tomb, This gloomy prison waits for you Whene'er the summons come.] 3 O could we die with those that die, And place us in their stead, Then would our spirits learn to fly, And converse with the dead: 4 Then should we see the saints above In their own glorious forms, And wonder why our souls should love To dwell with mortal worms. 5 [How we should scorn these clothes of flesh, These fetters and this load! And long for evening to undress, That we may rest with God.] 6 We should almost forsake our clay Before the summons come, And pray, and wish our souls away To their eternal home. Hymn 2:62. God the thunderer; or, The last judgment and hell.* 1 Sing to the Lord, ye heavenly hosts, And thou, O earth, adore, Let death and hell thro' all their coasts, Stand trembling at his power.