The Sinner’s Portion, and Saint’s hope. Ps. 17. 9-15
I. Watts L.M.
1
Lord, I am thine, but thou wilt prove
My faith, my patience, and my love;
When men of spite against me join,
They are the sword, the hand is thine.
2
Their hope and portion lie below;
’Tis all the happiness they know;
’Tis all they seek; they take their shares
And leave the rest among their heirs.
3
What sinners value I resign;
Lord, ’tis enough that thou art mine.
I shall behold thy blissful face,
And stand complete in righteousness.
4
This life’s a dream, an empty show,
But the bright world to which I go,
Has joys substantial and sincere;
When shall I wake and find me there?
5
O glorious hour! O blest abode!
I shall be near, and like my God!
And flesh and sin no more control
The sacred pleasures of my soul.
6
My flesh shall slumber in the ground,
Till the last trumpet’s joyful sound;
Then burst the chains with sweet surprise,
And in my Saviour’s image rise.
