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Ii8 The Book of Praise.
Behold, the morning sun Begins his glorious way ; His beams through all the nations run,' And life and light convey.
But where the gospel comes, It spreads diviner light, It calls dead sinners from their tomos, And gives the blind their sight.
How perfect is Thy word ! And all Thy judgments just! For ever sure Thy promise, Lord ; And men securely trust.
While with my heart and tongue I spread Thy praise abroad, Accept the worship and the song, My Saviour and my God \
Isaac Watts 1719.
The starry firmament on high, And all the glories of the sky, Yet shine not to Thy praise, O Lord, So brightly as Thy written word ; The hopes that holy word supplies, Its truths divine, and precepts wise, In each a heavenly beam I see, And every beam conducts to Thee,