Ver. 96. paraphrased.
1 Let all the heathen writers join
To form one perfect book,
Great God, if once compar'd with thine,
How mean their writings look!
2 Not the most perfect rules they gave
Could shew one sin forgiven,
Nor lead a step beyond the grave;
But thine conduct to heaven.
3 I've seen an end of what we call
Perfection here below;
How short the powers of nature fall,
And can no farther go!
4 Yet men would fain be just with God
By works their hands have wrought;
But thy commands, exceeding broad,
Extend to every thought.
5 In vain we boast perfection here,
While sin defiles our frame,
And sinks our virtues down so far,
They scarce deserve the name.
6 Our faith and love, and every grace,
Fall far below thy word;
But perfect truth and righteousness
Dwell only with the Lord.
Psalm 119:08. Eighth Part.
The word of God is the saint's portion; or,
The excellency and variety of scripture.
Ver. 111. paraphrased.
1 Lord, I have made thy word my choice,
My lasting heritage;
There shall my noblest powers rejoice,
My warmest thoughts engage.
2 I'll read the histories of thy love,
And keep thy laws in sight,
While thro' the promises I rove,
With ever fresh delight.
3 'Tis a broad land of wealth unknown
Where springs of life arise,
Seeds of immortal bliss are sown,
And hidden glory lies.