“Let dogs delight to bark and bite, For God hath made them so”
would not pass another day
Without this work begun.
Song 15.
_Against Lying_.
1 O `tis a lovely thing for youth
To walk betimes in wisdom's way;
To fear a lye, to speak the truth,
That we may trust to all they say.
2 But lyars we can never trust,
Though they should speak the thing that's true,
And he that does one fault at first,
And lyes to hide it, makes it two.
3 Have we not known, nor heard, nor read,
How God abhors deceit and wrong?
How Ananias was struck dead
Catch'd with a lye upon his tongue?
4 So did his wife Sapphira die
When she came in, and grew so bold
As to confirm that wicked lye
That just before her husband told.
5 The Lord delights in them that speak
The words of truth; but every lyar
Must have his portion in the lake
That burns with brimstone and with fire.
6 Then let me always watch my lips,
Lest I be struck to death and hell,
Since God a book of reckoning keeps
For every lye that children tell.
Song 16.
_Against Quarrelling and Fighting_.
1 Let dogs delight to bark and bite,
For God has made them so;
Let bears and lyons growl and fight,
For `tis their nature too.
2 But, children, you should never let
Such angry passions rise;
Your little hands were never made
To tear each other's eyes.
3 Let love thro' all your actions run,
And all your words be mild;
Live like the blessed Virgin's Son,
That sweet and lovely child.
4 His soul was gentle as a lamb;
And as his stature grew,
He grew in favour both with man
And God his Father too.
5 Now, Lord of all, he reigns above,
And from his heavenly throne,
He sees what children dwell in love,
And marks them for his own.
Song 17.
_Love between Brothers and Sisters_.
1 What ever brawls are in the street
There should be peace at home;
Where sisters dwell and brothers meet
Quarrels shou'd never come.
2 Birds in their little nests agree;
And `tis a shameful sight,
When children of one family
Fall out, and chide, and fight.
3 Hard names at first, and threatening words,
That are but noisy breath,
May grow to clubs and naked swords,
To murder and to death.
“Ill not willingly offend, Nor be easily offended; Whats amiss Ill strive to mend, And endure what cant be mended”
Song 6.
Good resolutions.
7,8,7,8
Though I'm now in younger days,
Nor can tell what shall befall me,
I'll prepare for every place
Where my growing age shall call me.
Should I e'er be rich or great,
Others shall partake my goodness:
I'll supply the poor with meat,
Never showing scorn or rudeness.
Where I see the blind or lame,
Deaf or dumb, I'll kindly treat them:
I deserve to feel the same,
If I mock, or hurt, or cheat them.
If I meet with railing tongues,
Why should I return them railing,
Since I best revenge my wrongs
By my patience never failing?
When I hear them telling lies,
Talking foolish, cursing, swearing,
First I'll try to make them wise,
Or I'll soon go out of hearing.
What though I be low or mean,
I'll engage the rich to love me,
While I'm modest, neat, and clean,
And submit when they reprove me.
If I should be poor and sick,
I shall meet, I hope, with pity;
Since I love to help the weak,
Though they're neither fair nor witty.
I'll not willingly offend,
Nor be easily offended:
What's amiss I'll strive to mend,
And endure what can't be mended.
May I be so watchful still
O'er my humours and my passion,
As to speak and do no ill,
Though it should be all the fashion.
Wicked fashions lead to hell;
Ne'er may I be found complying;
But in life behave so well,
Not to be afraid of dying.
Song 7.
Summer's evening.
11,11,11,9
How fine has the day been! how bright was the sun!
How lovely and joyful the course that he run;
Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun,
And there followed some droppings of rain:
But now the fair traveller's come to the west,
His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best;
He paints the skies gay as he sinks to his rest,
And foretells a bright rising again.
Just such is the Christian. His course he begins
Like the sun in a mist, while he mourns for his sins,
And melts into tears! then he breaks out and shines,
And travels his heavenly way:
But when he comes nearer to finish his race,
Like a fine setting sun, he looks richer in grace;
And gives a sure hope, at the end of his days,
Of rising in brighter array.
“For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do”
And when they're angry, how they swear,
And curse their fellows, and blaspheme!
3 How will they stand before thy face,
Who treated thee with such disdain,
While thou shalt doom them to the place
Of everlasting fire and pain?
4 Then never shall one cooling drop
To quench their burning tongues be giv'n.
But I will praise thee here, and hope
Thus to employ my tongue in heav'n.
5 My heart shall be in pain to hear
Wretches affront the Lord above;
'Tis that great God whose power I fear,
That heavenly Father whom I love.
6 If my companions grow profane,
I'll leave their friendship when I hear
Young sinners take thy name in vain,
And learn to curse, and learn to swear.
Song 20.
_Against Idleness and Mischief_.
1 How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower!
2 How skilfully she builds her cell!
How neat she spreads the wax!
And labours hard to store it well
With the sweet food she makes.
3 In works of labour or of skill
I would be busy too:
For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.
4 In books, or work, or healthful play
Let my first years be past,
That I may give for every day
Some good account at last.
Song 21.
_Against evil Company_.
1 Why should I join with those in play
In whom I've no delight;
Who curse and swear, but never play;
Who call ill names, and fight?
2 I hate to hear a wanton song:
Their words offend my ears:
I should not dare defile my tongue
With language such as theirs.
3 Away from fools I'll turn my eyes,
Nor with the scoffers go:
I would be walking with the wise,
That wiser I may grow.
4 From one rude boy, that's used to mock,
They learn the wicked jest:
One sickly sheep infects the flock,
And poisons all the rest.
5 My God, I hate to walk or dwell
With sinful children here:
Then let me not be sent to hell,
Where none but sinners are.
Song 22.
_Against Pride in Clothes_.
1 Why should our garments, made to hide
Our parents' shame, provoke our pride?
The art of dress did ne'er begin
Till Eve our mother learnt to sin.
“Tis the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain, You have wakd me too soon, I must slumber again”
Give to the Father Praise,
Give Glory to the Son,
And to the Spirit of his Grace
Be equal Honour done.
A Slight SPECIMEN of MORAL SONGS,
_Such as I wish some happy and condescending Genius would undertake
for the use of Children, and perform much better_.
The sense and subjects might be borrow'd plentifully from the
_Proverbs of Solomon_, from all the common appearances of nature,
from all the occurrences in the civil life, both in city and country:
(which would also afford matter for other divine songs). Here the
language and measures should be easy and flowing with cheerfulness,
and without the solemnities of religion, or the sacred names
of God and holy things; that children might find delight and profit
together.
This would be one effectual way to deliver them from the temptation
of loving and learning those idle, wanton or profane songs, which
give so early an ill taint to the fancy and memory, and become
the seeds of future vices.
_The Sluggard_.
1 'Tis the voice of the Sluggard. I heard him complain
"You have waked me too soon! I must slumber again!"
As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed,
Turns his sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy head.
2 "A little more sleep, and a little more slumber;"
Thus he wastes half his days, and his hours without number:
And when he gets up, he sits folding his hands
Or walks about sauntering, or trifling he stands.
3 I past by his garden, and saw the wild bryar
The thorn and the thistle grow broader and higher:
The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags;
And his money still wasts, still he starves, or he begs.
4 I made him a visit, still hoping to find
He had took better care for improving his mind:
He told me his dreams, talk'd of eating and drinking,
But he scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking.
5 Said I then to my heart, "Here's a lesson for me,"
That man's but a picture of what I might be:
But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding:
Who taught me betimes to love working and reading!
_Innocent Play_.
1 Abroad in the meadows to see the young lambs,
Run sporting about by the side of their dams
With fleeces so clean, and so white;
Or a nest of young doves in a large open cage,
When they play all in love without anger or rage,
How much may we learn from the sight!
“I would not change my native land, for rich Peru with all her gold”
Not more than others I deserve,
Yet God hath given me more;
For I have food, while others starve,
Or beg from door to door.
3 How many children in the street
Half naked I behold?
While I am clothed from head to feet,
And cover'd from the cold.
4 While some poor wretches scarce can tell
Where they may lay their head,
I have a home wherein to dwell,
And rest upon my bed.
5 While others early learn to swear,
And curse, and lie, and steal,
Lord, I am taught thy name to fear,
And do thy holy will.
6 Are these thy favours, day by day
To me above the rest?
Then let me love thee more than they,
And try to serve thee best.
Song 5.
_Praise for Birth and Education in a Christian Land_.
1 Great God, to thee my voice I raise,
To thee my youngest hours belong;
I would begin my life with praise,
Till growing years improve the song.
2 'Tis to thy soveraign grace I owe,
That I was born on Brittish ground,
Where streams of heavenly mercy flow,
And words of sweet salvation sound.
3 I would not change my native land
For rich Peru, with all her gold:
A nobler prize lies in my hand
Than East or Western Indies hold.
4 How do I pity those that dwell
Where ignorance and darkness reigns;
They know no heav'n, they fear no hell,
Those endless joys, those endless pains.
5 Thy glorious promises, O Lord,
Kindle my hope and my desire;
While all the preachers of thy word
Warn me t' escape eternal fire.
6 Thy praise shall still employ my breath,
Since thou hast mark'd my way to heaven;
Nor will I run the road to death,
And wast the blessings thou hast given.
Song 6.
_Praise for the Gospel_.
1 Lord, I ascribe it to thy grace,
And not to chance as others do,
That I was born of Christian race,
And not a Heathen, or a Jew.
2 What would the ancient Jewish kings,
And Jewish prophets once have given,
Could they have heard these glorious things,
Which Christ reveal'd, and brought from heav'n!
3 How glad the Heathens would have been,
That worship idols, wood, and stone,
If they the book of God had seen,
Or Jesus and his gospel known!
“A flower, when offered in the bud,/ is no vain sacrifice.”
5 Let me improve the hours I have
Before the day of grace is fled;
There's no repentance in the grave,
No pardons offer'd to the dead.
6 Just as a tree cut down, that fell
To north, or southward, there it lies:
So man departs to heaven or hell,
Fix'd in the state wherein he dies.
Song 11.
_Heaven and Hell_.
1 There is beyond the sky
A heaven of joy and love,
And holy children, when they die,
Go to that world above.
2 There is a dreadful hell,
And everlasting pains,
There sinners must with devils dwell
In darkness, fire, and chains.
3 Can such a wretch as I
Escape this cursed end?
And may I hope, whene'er I die,
I shall to heaven ascend?
4 Then will I read and pray
While I have life and breath;
Lest I should be cut off to day,
And sent t' eternal death.
Song 12.
_The Advantages of early Religion_.
1 Happy's the child whose youngest years
Receive instruction well;
Who hates the sinner's path, and fears
The road that leads to hell.
2 When we devote our youth to God,
'Tis pleasing in his eyes;
A flower, when offer'd in the bud,
Is no vain sacrifice.
3 'Tis easier work if we begin
To fear the Lord betimes;
While sinners that grow old in sin
Are hard'ned in their crimes.
4 'Twill save us from a thousand snares
To mind religion young;
Grace will preserve our following years
And make our vertue strong.
5 To thee, Almighty God, to thee
Our childhood we resign;
'Twill please us to look back and see
That our whole lives were thine.
6 Let the sweet work of prayer and praise,
Employ my youngest breath;
Thus I'm prepar'd for longer days,
Or fit for early death.
Song 13.
_The Danger of Delay_.
1 Why should I say, "`Tis yet too soon
"To seek for heaven or think of death?"
A flower may fade before `tis noon,
And I this day may lose my breath.
2 If this rebellious heart of mine,
Despise the gracious calls of Heaven;
I may be hard'ned in my sin,
And never have repentance given.
3 What if the Lord grow wroth, and swear
While I refuse to read and pray,
That he'll refuse to lend an ear,
To all my groans another day?
“I would not change my blest estate for all the world calls good or great.”
4 At his approach the mountains flee,
And seek a watery grave;
The frighted sea makes haste away,
And shrinks up every wave.
5 Thro' the wide air the weighty rocks
Are swift as hailstones hurl'd:
Who dares engage his fiery rage
That shakes the solid world?
6 Yet, mighty God, thy sovereign grace
Sits regent on the throne,
The refuge of thy chosen race
When wrath comes rushing down.
7 Thy hand shall on rebellious kings
A fiery tempest pour,
While we beneath thy sheltering wings
Thy just revenge adore.
*Hebrews 12:29.
Hymn 1:43. [Supplement.]
The Christian treasure, 1 Cor. 3. 21.
1 How vast the treasure we possess!
How rich thy bounty, King of Grace!
This world is ours, and worlds to come
Earth is our lodge, and heaven our home.
2 All things are ours, the gifts of God;
The purchase of a Saviour's blood:
While the good Spirit shews us how
To use and to improve them too.
3 If peace and plenty crown my days,
They help, me, Lord, to speak thy praise!
If bread of sorrows be my food,
Those sorrows work my lasting good.
4 I would not change my blest estate
For all the world calls good or great:
And while my faith can keep her hold,
I envy not the sinner's gold.
5 Father, I wait thy daily will;
Thou shalt divide my portion still:
Grant me on earth what seems thee best,
Till death and heaven reveal the rest.
Hymn 1:44. [Supplement.]
The true improvement of life.
1 And is this life prolong'd to me?
Are days and seasons given?
O let me then prepare to be
A fitter heir of heaven.
2 In vain these moments shall not pass,
These golden hours be gone:
Lord, I accept thine offered grace,
I bow before thy throne.
3 Now cleanse my soul from every sin,
By my Redeemer's blood:
Now let my flesh and soul begin
The honours of my God.
4 Let me no more my soul beguile
With sin's deceitful toys:
Let cheerful hope increasing still
Approach to heavenly joys.
5 My thankful lips shall loud proclaim
The wonders of thy praise,
And spread the savour of thy Name
Where'er I spend my days.
6 On earth let my example shine,
And when I leave this state,
May heaven receive this soul of mine
To bliss supremely great.
“Do not hover always on the surface of things, nor take up suddenly, with mere appearances; but penetrate into the depth of matters, as far as your time and circumstances allow, especially in those things which relate to your profession”
“Learning to trust is one of lifes most difficult tasks.”
“Earth, thou great footstool of our God, who reigns on high; thou fruitful source of all our raiment, life, and food; our house, our parent, and our nurse”
“Acquaint yourself with your own ignorance.”
Once a day, especially in the early years of life and study, call yourselves to an account what new ideas, what new proposition or truth you have gained, what further confirmation of known truths, and what advances you have made in any part of knowledge.
How shall polluted mortals dare To sing Thy glory or Thy grace Beneath Thy feet we lie afar And see but shadows of Thy face.
Acquaint yourself with your own ignorance.
Once a day....call yourselves to an account what new ideas, what new proposition or truth you have gained, what further confirmation of known truths, and what advances you have made in any part of knowledge.
Learning to trust is one of lifes most difficult tasks.
Hush my dear lie still and slumber Holy angels guard thy bed! Heavenly blessings without number Gently falling on thy head.
How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour And gather honey all the day From every opening flower.
One glance of Thine creates a day.
To be angry about trifles is mean and childish to rage and be furious is brutish and to maintain perpetual wrath is akin to the practice and temper of devils but to prevent and suppress rising resentment is wise and glorious is manly and divine.
