PAUL MIZZI

The Lord proclaims his grace abroad! Behold, I change your hearts of stone; Each shall renounce his idol god, And serve, henceforth, the Lord alone. My grace, a flowing stream, proceeds To wash your filthiness away; Ye shall abhor your former deeds, And learn my statutes to obey. My truth the great design insures, I give myself away to you; You shall be mine, I will be yours, Your God unalterably true. Yet not unsought, or unimplored, The plenteous grace shall I confer; No—your whole hearts shall seek the Lord, I’ll put a praying spirit there. From the first breath of life divine, Down to the last expiring hour; The gracious work shall all be mine, Begun and ended in my pow’r.         - William Cowper.

Zaccheus climbed the tree, And thought himself unknown; But how surprised was he When JESUS called him down! The LORD beheld him, though concealed, And by a word his pow’r revealed. Wonder and joy at once Were painted in his face; Does he my name pronounce? And does he know my case? Will Jesus deign with me to dine? Lord, I, with all I have, am thine! Thus where the gospel’s preached, And sinners come to hear; The hearts of some are reached Before they are aware: The word directly speaks to them, And seems to point them out by name. ’Tis curiosity Oft brings them in the way, Only the man to see, And hear what he can say; But how the sinner starts to find The preacher knows his inmost mind. His long forgotten faults Are brought again in view, And all his secret thoughts Revealed in public too: Though compassed with a crowd about, The searching word has found him out. While thus distressing pain And sorrow fills his heart, He hears a voice again, That b...

Jesus, to what didst thou submit To save thy dear–bought flock from hell! Like a pour trav’ller see him sit, Athirst, and weary, by the well. The woman who for water came, (What great events on small depend) Then learnt the glory of his name, The Well of life, the sinner’s Friend! Taught from her birth to hate the Jews, And filled with party–pride; at first Her zeal induced her to refuse Water, to quench the Savior’s thirst. But soon she knew the gift of GOD, And JESUS, whom she scorned before, Unasked, that drink on her bestowed, Which whoso tastes shall thirst no more. His words her prejudice removed, Her sin she felt, relief she found; She saw and heard, believed and loved, And ran to tell her neighbors round. O come, this wondrous man behold! The promised Savior! this is he, Whom ancient prophecies foretold, Born, from our guilt to set us free. Like her, in ignorance content, I worshipped long I knew not what; Like her, on other things intent, I found h...

If Paul in Caesar’s court must stand, He need not fear the sea; Secured from harm, on every hand, By the divine decree. Although the ship, in which he sailed, By dreadful storms was tossed; The promise over all prevailed, And not a life was lost. Jesus! the GOD whom Paul adored, Who saves in time of need; Was then confessed, by all on board, A present help indeed! Though neither sun nor stars were seen Paul knew the Lord was near; And faith preserved his soul serene, When others shook for fear. Believers thus are tossed about On life’s tempestuous main; But grace assures, beyond a doubt, They shall their port attain. They must, they shall appear one day, Before their Savior’s throne; The storms they meet with by the way, But make his power known. Their passage lies across the brink Of many a threat’ning wave; The world expects to see them sink, But JESUS lives to save. Lord, though we are but feeble worms, Yet since thy word is past; We’ll venture throug...

He who on earth as man was known, And bore our sins and pains; Now, seated on th’ eternal throne, The God of glory reigns. His hands the wheels of nature guide With an unerring skill; And countless worlds extended wide, Obey his sovereign will. While harps unnumbered sound his praise, In yonder world above; His saints on earth admire his ways, And glory in his love. His righteousness, to faith revealed, Wrought out for guilty worms, Affords a hiding place and shield, From enemies and storms. This land, through which his pilgrims go, Is desolate and dry; But streams of grace from him o’erflow Their thirst to satisfy. When troubles, like a burning sun, Beat heavy on their head; To this almighty Rock they run, And find a pleasing shade. How glorious he! how happy they In such a glorious friend! Whose love secures them all the way, And crowns them at the end.         - John Newton.

How sweet the name of Jesus sounds In a believer’s ear? It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear. It makes the wounded spirit whole, And calms the troubled breast; ’Tis Manna to the hungry soul, And to the weary rest. Dear name! the rock on which I build, My shield and hiding place; My never–failing treas’ry filled With boundless stores of grace. By thee my prayers acceptance gain, Although with sin defiled, Satan accuses me in vain, And I am owned a child. Jesus! my Shepherd, Husband, Friend, My Prophet, Priest, and King; My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End, Accept the praise I bring. Weak is the effort of my heart, And cold my warmest thought; But when I see thee as thou art, I’ll praise thee as I ought. ’Till then I would thy love proclaim With every fleeting breath, And may the music of thy name Refresh my soul in death.         - John Newton.

Afflictions, though they seem severe; In mercy oft are sent; They stopped the prodigal’s career, And forced him to repent. Although he no relentings felt Till he had spent his store; His stubborn heart began to melt When famine pinched him sore. “What have I gained by sin, he said, But hunger, shame, and fear; My father’s house abounds with bread, While I am starving here. I’ll go, and tell him all I’ve done, And fall before his face Unworthy to be called his son, I’ll seek a servant’s place.” His father saw him coming back, He saw, and ran, and smiled; And threw his arms around the neck Of his rebellious child. “Father, I’ve sinned—but O forgive!” I’ve heard enough, he said, Rejoice my house, my son’s alive, For whom I mourned as dead. Now let the fatted calf be slain, And spread the news around; My son was dead, but lives again, Was lost, but now is found. ’Tis thus the Lord his love reveals, To call poor sinners home; More than a father’s love he feel...

Hark, my soul! it is the LORD; ’Tis thy Savior, hear his word; JESUS speaks, and speaks to thee; “Say, poor sinner, lov’st thou me? I delivered thee when bound, And, when wounded, healed thy wound; Sought thee wand’ring, set thee right, Turned thy darkness into light.” Can a woman’s tender care Cease, towards the child she bare? Yes, she may forgetful be, Yet will I remember thee. “Mine is an unchanging love; Higher than the heights above; Deeper than the depths beneath, Free and faithful, strong as death. Thou shalt see my glory soon, When the work of grace is done; Partner of my throne shalt be, Say, poor sinner, lov’st thou me?” Lord it is my chief complaint, That my love is weak and faint; Yet I love thee and adore, Oh for grace to love thee more!         - William Cowper.

A believer, free from care, May in chains, or dungeons, sing, If the Lord be with him there; And he happier than a king: Paul and Silas thus confined, Though their backs were torn by whips, Yet possessing peace of mind, Sung his praise wish joyful lips. Suddenly the prison shook, Open flew the iron doors; And the jailer, terror–struck, Now his captives’ help implores: Trembling at their feet he fell, “Tell me, Sirs, what must I do To be saved from guilt and hell? None can tell me this but you.” “Look to Jesus, they replied, If on Him thou canst believe; By the death which he has died, Thou salvation shalt receive:” While the living word he heard, Faith sprung up within his heart; And released from all he feared, In their joy his soul had part. Sinners, CHRIST is still the same, O that you could likewise fear! Then the mention of his name Would be music to your ear: JESUS rescues Satan’s slaves, His dear wounds still plead, “Forgive!” JESUS to the utmost ...

“I am, saith Christ our glorious head, (May we attention give) The resurrection of the dead, The life of all that live. By faith in me, the soul receives New life, though dead before; And he that in my name believes, Shall live, to die no more. The sinner, sleeping in his grave, Shall at my voice awake; And when I once begin to save, My work I ne’er forsake.” Fulfill thy promise, gracious Lord, On us assembled here, Put forth thy Spirit with the word, And cause the dead to hear. Preserve the pow’r of faith alive, In those who love thy name; For sin and Satan daily strive To quench the sacred flame. Thy pow’r and mercy first prevailed From death to set us free; And often since our life had failed, If not renewed by thee. To thee we look, to thee we bow; To thee, for help, we call; Our life and resurrection thou, Our hope, our joy, our all.       - John Newton.

There is a fountain filled with blood Drawn from Emmanuel's veins; And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, Loose all their guilty stains. The dying thief rejoiced to see That fountain in his day; And there have I, as vile as he, Washed all my sins away. Dear dying Lamb, thy precious blood Shall never lose its pow’r; Till all the ransomed church of God Be saved, to sin no more. E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply: Redeeming love has been my theme, And shall be till I die. Then in a nobler sweeter song I’ll sing thy pow’r to save When this poor lisping stamm’ring tongue Lies silent in the grave. Lord, I believe thou hast prepared (Unworthy though I be) For me a blood–bought free reward, A golden harp for me! ’Tis strung, and tuned, for endless years, And formed by pow’r divine; To sound, in God the Father’s ears, No other name but thine.          - William Cowper.

Honor and happiness unite To make the Christian's name a praise; How fair the scene, how clear the light, That fills the remnant of His days! A kingly character He bears, No change His priestly office knows; Unfading is the crown He wears, His joys can never reach a close. Adorn'd with glory from on high, Salvation shines upon His face; His robe is of the ethereal dye, His steps are dignity and grace. Inferior honors He disdains, Nor stoops to take applause from earth; The King of kings Himself maintains The expenses of His heavenly birth. The noblest creature seen below, Ordain'd to fill a throne above; God gives him all He can bestow, His kingdom of eternal love! My soul is ravished at the thought! Methinks from earth I see Him rise! Angels congratulate His lot, And shout Him welcome to the skies.          - William Cowper

How welcome to the saints, when pressed With six days noise, and care, and toil, Is the returning day of rest, Which hides them from the world awhile? Now, from the throng withdrawn away, They seem to breathe a different air; Composed and softened by the day, All things another aspect wear. How happy if their lot is cast, Where statedly the gospel sounds The word is honey to their taste, Renews their strength, and heals their wounds! Though pinched with poverty at home, With sharp afflictions daily fed; It makes amends, if they can come To God’S own house for heav’nly bread! With joy they hasten to the place, Where they their Savior oft have met; And while they feast upon his grace, Their burdens and their griefs forget. This favored lot, my friends, is curs, May we the privilege improve; And find these consecrated hours, Sweet earnests of the joys above! We thank thee for thy day, O Lord, Here we thy promised presence seek; Open thine hand, with blessings s...

O God, whose favorable eye, The sin-sick soul revives, Holy and heavenly is the joy Thy shining presence gives. Not such as hypocrites suppose, Who with a graceless heart Taste not of Thee, but drink a dose, Prepared by Satan's art. Intoxicating joys are theirs, Who while they boast their light, And seem to soar above the stars, Are plunging into night. Lull'd in a soft and fatal sleep, They sin and yet rejoice; Were they indeed the Saviour's sheep, Would they not hear His voice? Be mine the comforts that reclaim The soul from Satan's power; That make me blush for what I am, And hate my sin the more. 'Tis joy enough, my All in All, At Thy dear feet to lie; Thou wilt not let me lower fall, And none can higher fly.          - William Cowper

Lord, my soul with pleasure springs When Jesu's name I hear: And when God the Spirit brings The word of promise near: Beauties too, in holiness, Still delighted I perceive; Nor have words that can express The joys Thy precepts give. Clothed in sanctity and grace, How sweet it is to see Those who love Thee as they pass, Or when they wait on Thee. Pleasant too to sit and tell What we owe to love Divine; Till our bosoms grateful swell, And eyes begin to shine. Those the comforts I possess, Which God shall still increase, All His ways are pleasantness, And all His paths are peace. Nothing Jesus did or spoke, Henceforth let me ever slight; For I love His easy yoke, And find His burden light.           - William Cowper

The evils that beset our path Who can prevent or cure? We stand upon the brink of death When most we seem secure. If we today sweet peace possess, It soon may be withdrawn; Some change may plunge us in distress, Before tomorrow’s dawn. Disease and pain invade our health And find an easy prey; And oft, when least expected, wealth Takes wings and flies away. A fever or a blow can shake Our wisdom’s boasted rule; And of the brightest genius make A madman or a fool. The gourds, from which we look for fruit, Produce us only pain; A worm unseen attacks the root, And all our hopes are vain. I pity those who seek no more Than such a world can give; Wretched they are, and blind, and poor, And dying while they live. Since sin has filled the earth with woe, And creatures fade and die; Lord wean our hearts from things below, And fix our hopes on high.         - John Newton.

While with ceaseless course the sun Hasted through the former year, Many souls their race have run, Never more to meet us here Fixed in an eternal fate, They have done with all below; We a little longer wait, But how little—none can know. As the winged arrow flies Speedily the mark to find; As the lightning from the skies Darts, and leaves no trace behind; Swiftly thus our fleeting days Bear us down life’s rapid stream; Upwards, Lord, our spirits raise, All below is but a dream. Thanks for mercies past receive, Pardon of our sins renew; Teach us, henceforth, how to live With eternity in view: Bless thy word to young and old, Fill us with a Savior’s love; And when life’s short tale is told, May we dwell with thee above.          - John Newton

The billows swell, the winds are high, Clouds overcast my wintry sky; Out of the depths to Thee I call, -- My fears are great, my strength is small. O Lord, the pilot's part perform, And guard and guide me through the storm; Defend me from each threatening ill, Control the waves, -- say, "Peace! be still." Amidst the roaring of the sea My soul still hangs her hope on Thee; Thy constant love, thy faithful care, Is all that saves me from despair. Dangers of every shape and name Attend the followers of the Lamb, Who leave the world's deceitful shore, And leave it to return no more. Though tempest-toss'd and half a wreck, My Saviour through the floods I seek; Let neither winds nor stormy main Force back my shatter'd bark again.             - William Cowper

Heal us, Emmanuel! here we are, Waiting to feel Thy touch: Deep-wounded souls to Thee repair And, Saviour, we are such. Our faith is feeble, we confess, We faintly trust Thy word; But wilt Thou pity us the less? Be that far from Thee, Lord! Remember him who once applied, With trembling, for relief; "Lord, I believe," with tears he cried, "Oh, help my unbelief!" She too, who touch'd Thee in the press, And healing virtue stole, Was answer'd, "Daughter, go in peace, Thy faith hath made thee whole." Conceal'd amid the gathering throng, She would have shunn'd Thy view; And if her faith was firm and strong, Had strong misgivings too. Like her, with hopes and fears we come, To touch Thee, if we may; Oh! send us not despairing home, Send none unheal'd away!           - William Cowper

Sometimes a light surprises The Christian while he sings; It is the Lord who rises With healing on His wings; When comforts are declining, He grants the soul again A season of clear shining, To cheer it after rain. In holy contemplation We sweetly then pursue The theme of God's salvation, And find it ever new; Set free from present sorrow, We cheerfully can say, E'en let the unknown to-morrow Bring with it what it may! It can bring with it nothing, But He will bear us through; Who gives the lilies clothing, Will clothe His people too; Beneath the spreading heavens No creature but is fed; And He who feeds the ravens Will give His children bread. Though vine nor fig tree neither Their wonted fruit shall bear, Though all the field should wither, Nor flocks nor herds be there: Yet God the same abiding, His praise shall tune my voice; For, while in Him confiding, I cannot but rejoice.             - William Cowper