Ye heavens! reflect it to the ground.
4 Oh! may I live to reach the place,
Where he unveils his lovely face,
Where all his beauties you behold,
And sing his name to harps of gold.
Isaac Watts, 1707.
12 Rockingham. L.M.
(13) Unceasing Praise.
My God! my King! thy various praise
Shall fill the remnant of my days;