Thomas Collection

Manuscript in Thomas Collection empty Mozart transcription by Mary Van Deusen

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LENOX, PSALM 148, by Dr. Watts

Ye tribes of Adam join
With heav'n, and earth, and seas,
And offer notes divine
To your creator's praise.
Ye holy throng Of Angels bright,
Ye holy throng Of Angels bright,
In worlds of light, Begin the song.

NORWICH (1779), by Dr. Watts

My sorrows like a flood, impatient of restraint,
Into Thy Bosom O Into Thy bosom O my God,
Pour out a long complaint.


Heav'n opens on my eyes,
My ears with sounds seraphic ring;
Lend, lend your wings!
I mount, I fly!
O grave! where is the victory?
O death! where is thy sting?

By Dr. Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

The full psalm of 10 verses appears in his brother's, Rev. Dr. John Henry
Livingston's, Psalm and Hymn Book of 1814, p.257-9.

YE tribes of Adam, join
With heav'n and earth and seas,
And offer notes divine
To your Creator's praise.
Ye holy throng of angels bright,
In worlds of light, begin the song.

Thou sun with dazzling rays,
And moon that rul'st the night,
Shine to your Maker's praise,
With stars of twinkling light.
His pow'r declare, ye floods on high
And clouds, that fly in empty air.

The shining worlds above
In glorious order stand,
Or in swift courses move
By his supreme command.
He spake the word, and all their frame
From nothing came, to praise the Lord.

He mov'd their mighty wheels
In unknown ages past;
And each his word fulfils,
While time and nature last.
In diff'rent ways his works proclaim
His wondrous Name, and speak his praise.

Cyberhymnal 66.66.88 midi arrangement of Lenox

By Dr. Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

My sorrows like a flood
Impatient of restraint
Into thy bosom, O my God,
Pour out a long complaint.

This impious heart of mine
Could once defy the Lord,
Rush with violence on to sin
In presence of thy word

How often have I stood
A rebel to the skies
And yet, and yet, O matchless grace,
Thy thunder lies!

O'ercome by matchless love,
Here at thy cross I lie,
And throw my flesh, my soul, my all,
And weep, and love, and cry.

"Rise," says the Savior, "Rise,
Behold my wounded veins;
Here flows a sacred crimson flood,
To wash away thy stains."

See, Justice satisfied!
Behold God's smiling face!
Let joyful cherubs clap their wings,
And sound aloud his grace.


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