Man's Fallen State

469

Original Sin

1 BACKWARD with humble shame we look On our original:

How is our nature dash'd and broke In our first father's fall!

2 To all that's good, averse and blind, But prone to all that's ill, What dreadful darkness veils our mind!

How obstinate our will!

3 Wild and unwholesome as the root Will all the branches be;

How can we hope for living fruit From such a deadly tree?

4 What mortal power from things unclean Can pure productions bring? Who can command a vital stream From an infected spring?

5 Yet, mighty God, Thy wondrous love Can make our nature clean, While Christ and grace prevail above The tempter, death and sin.

6 The second Adam shall restore The ruins of the first, Hosanna to the sovereign power That new creates our dust!

Isaac Watts, 1709

470 The Distemper and Madness of Sin

1 SIN, like a venomous disease, Infects our vital blood; The only balm is sovereign grace, And the physician God.

2 Our beauty and our strength are fled, And we draw near to death; But Christ the Lord recalls the dead With His almighty breath.

3 Madness by nature reigns within, The passions burn and rage;

Till God's own Son, with skill divine, The inward fire assuage.

Isaac Watts, 1709

471 Need of the Atonement

1 HOW is our nature spoil'd with sin!

Yet nature ne'er hath found The way to make the conscience clean, Or heal the painful wound.

2 In vain we seek for peace with God By methods of our own;

Jesus, there's nothing but Thy blood Can bring us near the throne.

3 The threatenings of Thy broken law Impress our souls with dread;

If God His sword of vengeance draw, It strikes our spirits dead.

4 But Thine illustrious sacrifice Hath answer'd these demands; And peace and pardon from the skies Come down by Jesus' hands.

5 Here all the ancient types agree, The altar and the Lamb; And prophets in their visions see Salvation through His name.

6 'Tis by Thy death, we live, O Lord;

'Tis on Thy cross we rest; For ever be Thy love adored, Thy name for ever bless'd.

Isaac Watts, 1721.

472 Our Unconverted State

1 GREAT King of glory and of grace, We own, with humble shame, How vile is our degenerate race, And our first father's name.

2 From Adam flows our tainted blood, The poison reigns within, Makes us averse to all that's good, And willing slaves to sin.

3 Daily we break Thy holy laws, And then reject Thy grace;

Engaged in the old serpent's cause Against our Maker's face.

4 We live estranged afar from God, And love the distance well; With haste we run the dangerous road That leads to death and hell.

5 And can such rebels be restored, Such natures made divine?

Let sinners see Thy glory, Lord, And feel this power of Thine.

6 We raise our Father's name on high, Who His own Spirit sends To bring rebellious strangers nigh, And turn His foes to friends.

Isaac Watts, 1709.

473 Mourning over Transgressors

1 ARISE, my tenderest thoughts, arise, To torrents melt my streaming eyes; And thou, my heart, with anguish feel Those evils which thou canst not heal

2 See human nature sunk in shame;

See scandals pour'd on Jesu's name; The Father wounded through the Son: The world abused, and souls undone.

3 See the short course of vain delight Closing in everlasting night: In flames that no abatement know, Though briny tears for ever flow.

4 My God, I feel the mournful scene; My bowels yearn o'er dying men; And fain my pity would reclaim, And snatch the firebrands from the flame.

5 But feeble my compassion proves, And can but weep where most it loves;

Thy own all-saving arm employ, And turn these drops of grief to joy.

Philip Doddridge, 1755.

474 Faith in Christ for cleansing

1 HOW sad our state by nature is! Our sin how deep it stains I And Satan binds our captive minds Fast in his slavish chains.

2 But there's a voice of sovereign grace Sounds from the sacred Word, "Ho, ye despairing sinners, come, And trust upon the Lord.

3 My soul obeys th' almighty call, And runs to this relief;

I would believe Thy promise, Lord, Oh! help my unbelief.

4 To the dear fountain of Thy blood, Incarnate God, I fly;

Here let me wash my spotted soul From crimes of deepest dye.

5 Stretch out Thine arm, victorious King! My reigning sins subdue;

Drive the old dragon from his seat, With all his hellish crew.

6 A guilty, weak, and helpless worm, On Thy kind arms I fall; Be Thou my strength and righteousness My Jesus and my all.

Isaac Watts, 1709.

475 The whole head is Sick

1 PHYSICIAN of my sin-sick soul, To Thee I bring my case; My raging malady control, And heal me by Thy grace.

2 Pity the anguish I endure, See how I mourn and pine; For never can I hope a cure From any hand but Thine.

3 I would disclose my whole complaint, But where shall I begin? No words of mine can fully paint That worst distemper, sin.

4 It lies not in a single part, But through my frame is spread; A burning fever in my heart, a palsy in my head.

5 Lord, I am sick, regard my cry, And set my spirit free:

Say, canst Thou let a sinner die, Who longs to live to Thee?

John Newton, 1779.

476 Jesus delivering the lost Ones

1 BURIED in shadows of the night We lie, till Christ restores the light;

Wisdom descends to heal the blind, And chase the darkness of the mind.

2 Our guilty souls are drown'd in tears Till His atoning blood appears;

Then we awake from deep distress, And sing, "The Lord our Righteousness.

3 Our very frame is mix'd with sin, His Spirit makes our natures clean;

Such virtues from His sufferings flow, At once to cleanse and pardon too.

4 Poor helpless worms in Thee possess Grace, wisdom, power, and righteousness;

Thou art our Mighty All, and we Give our whole selves, O Lord, to Thee.

Isaac Watts, 1709.

477 Distinguishing Love to Man

1 DOWN headlong from their native skies The rebel angels fell, And thunderbolts of flaming wrath Pursued them deep to hell.

2 Down from the top of earthly bliss Rebellious man was hurl'd; And Jesus stoop'd beneath the grave To reach a sinking world.

3 Oh love of infinite degree!

Immeasurable grace!

Must heaven's eternal darling die, To save & traitorous race?

4 Must angels sink for ever down, And burn in quenchless fire, While God forsakes His shining throne To raise us wretches higher?

6 Oh for this love let earth and skies With hallelujahs ring, And the full choir of human tongues All hallelujahs sing.

Isaac Watts, 1709.