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Broad is the road that leads to death
Author: Isaac Watts Hymnal: The Psalms and Hymns of Dr. Watts #94 (1835) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Topics: Prosperous sinners cursed Lyrics:
Broad is the road that leads to death,
And thousands walk together there;
But wisdom shows a narrower path,
With here and there a traveller.
"Deny thyself, and take thy cross,"
Is the Redeemer's great command;
Nature must count her gold but dross,
If she would gain this heav'nly land.
The fearful soul that tires and faints,
And walks the ways of God no more,
Is but esteemed almost a saint,
And makes his own destruction sure.
Lord, let not all my hopes be vain
Create my heart entirely new;
Which hypocrites could ne'er attain,
Which false apostates never knew.
Scripture: Psalm 73:23-28 Languages: English
Broad is the road that leads to death
Psalm 49
Author: Isaac Watts Hymnal: Psalms and Hymns of Isaac Watts, The #Ps.111 (1806) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Topics: Prosperous sinners cursed First Line: Why do the proud insult the poor Lyrics:
Why do the proud insult the poor,
And boast the large estates they have?
How vain are riches to secure
Their haughty owners from the grave!
They can't redeem one hour from death,
With all the wealth in which they trust;
Nor give a dying brother breath,
When God commands him down to dust.
There the dark earth and dismal shade
Shall clasp their naked bodies round;
That flesh, so delicately fed,
Lies cold and moulders in the ground.
Like thoughtless sheep the sinner dies,
Laid in the grave for worms to eat:
The saints shall in the morning rise,
And find th' oppressor at their feet.
His honors perish in the dust,
And pomp and beauty, birth and blood:
That glorious day exalts the just
To full dominion o'er the proud.
My Savior shall my life restore,
And raise me from my dark abode;
My flesh and soul shall part no more,
But dwell for ever near my God.
Scripture: Psalm 49 Languages: English
Psalm 49
Psalm 49 Part 1
Author: Isaac Watts Hymnal: Psalms and Hymns of Isaac Watts, The #Ps.109 (1806) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Topics: Prosperous sinners cursed First Line: Why doth the man of riches grow Lyrics:
Why doth the man of riches grow
To insolence and pride,
To see his wealth and honors flow
With every rising tide?
[Why doth he treat the poor with scorn,
Made of the self-same clay,
And boast as though his flesh was born
Of better dust than they?]
Not all his treasures can procure
His soul a short reprieve,
Redeem from death one guilty hour,
Or make his brother live.
[Life is a blessing can't be sold,
The ransom is too high;
Justice will ne'er be bribed with gold,
That man may never die.]
He sees the brutish and the wise,
The tim'rous and the brave,
Quit their possessions, close their eyes,
And hasten to the grave.
Yet 'tis his inward thought and pride,-
My house shall ever stand
And that my name may long abide,
I'll give it to my land."
Vain are his thoughts, his hopes are lost,
How soon his memory dies!
His name is written in the dust
Where his own carcass lies.
This is the folly of their way;
And yet their sons, as vain,
Approve the words their fathers say,
And act their works again.
Men void of wisdom and of grace,
If honor raise them high,
Live like the beast, a thoughtless race,
And like the beast they die.
[Laid in the grave like silly sheep,
Death feeds upon them there,
Till the last trumpet break their sleep
In terror and despair.]
Scripture: Psalm 49:6-14 Languages: English
Psalm 49 Part 1
Psalm 49 Part 2
Author: Isaac Watts Hymnal: Psalms and Hymns of Isaac Watts, The #Ps.110 (1806) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Topics: Prosperous sinners cursed First Line: Ye sons of pride, that hate the just Lyrics:
Ye sons of pride, that hate the just
And trample on the poor,
When death has brought you down to dust,
Your pomp shall rise no more.
The last great day shall change the scene;
When will that hour appear?
When shall the just revive, and reign
O'er all that scorned them here?
God will my naked soul receive,
When sep'rate from the flesh;
And break the prison of the grave,
To raise my bones afresh.
Heav'n is my everlasting home,
Th' inheritance is sure:
Let men of pride their rage resume,
But I'll repine no more.
Scripture: Psalm 49:14-15 Languages: English
Psalm 49 Part 2
Now I'm convinc'd the Lord is kind
Hymnal: Church Hymn Book #P.LXXIII.I (1816) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Topics: Afflicted Saints happy, & Prosperous Sinners cursed Lyrics: 1 Now I’m convinc'd the Lord is kind
To men of heart sincere,
Yet once my foolish thoughts repin'd,
And border'd on despair.
2 I griev'd to see the wicked thrive,
And spoke with angry breath,
“How pleasant and profane they live!
How peaceful is their death!
3 With well-fed flesh and haughty eyes,
They lay their fears to sleep;
Against the heavens their slanders rise,
While saints in silence weep.
4 In vain I lift my hands to pray,
And cleanse my heart in vain;
For I am chast'ned all the day,
The night renews my pain."
5 Yet while my tongue indulg'd complaints,
I felt my heart reprove;
"Sure I shall thus offend thy saints,
And grieve the men I love."
6 But still I found my doubts too hard,
The conflict too severe;
'Till I retir'd to search thy word,
And learn thy secrets there.
7 There as in some prophetic glass,
I saw the sinner’s feet
High mounted on a slipp'ry place
Beside a fiery pit.
8 I heard the wretch profanely boast,
'Till at thy frown he fell;
His honours in a dream were lost,
And he awakes in hell.
9 Lord, what an envious fool I was!
How like a thoughtless beast!
Thus to suspect thy promis'd grace,
And think the wicked blest.
10 Yet I was kept from full despair,
Upheld by pow'r unknown;
That blessèd hand that broke the snare
Shall guide me to thy throne. Scripture: Psalm 78:1-10 Languages: English
Now I'm convinc'd the Lord is kind
Lord, what a thoughtless wretch was I
Author: Dr. Watts Hymnal: Hymns and Spiritual Songs, Original and Selected, for the Use of Christians. (5th ed.) #P21 (1838) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Topics: The prosperity of Sinners cursed Scripture: Psalm 73 Languages: English
Lord, what a thoughtless wretch was I
Lord, what a thoughtless wretch was I
Hymnal: Hymns, Selected and Original #94 (1828) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Topics: The prosperity of Sinners cursed Lyrics: 1 Lord, what a thoughtless wretch was I,
To mourn, and murmur, and repine
To see the wicked plac'd on high,
In pride and robes of honour shine!
2 But oh their end, their dreadful end!
Thy sanctuary taught me so;
On slippery rocks I see them stand,
And fiery billows roll below.
3 Now let them boast how tall they rise,
I'll never envy them again:
There they may stand with haughty eyes,
Till they plunge deep in endless pain.
4 Their fancied joys, how fast they flee!
Just like a dream when man awakes;
Their songs of softest harmony
Are but a preface to their plagues.
5 Now I esteem their mirth and wine
Too dear to purchase with my blood;
Lord, 'tis enough that thou art mine,
My life, my portion, and my God.
Lord, what a thoughtless wretch was I
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