4    C.M.     Isaac Watts
The Sovereignty of God. Job. 23. 13; Rom. 9. 15-18

1 Keep silence all created things,
  And wait your Maker’s nod;
  My soul stands trembling while she sings
  The honours of her God.

2 Life, death, and hell, and worlds unknown,
  Hang on his firm decree;
  He sits on no precarious throne,
  Nor borrows leave TO BE.

3 Chained to his throne a volume lies,
  With all the fates of men,
  With every angel’s form and size,
  Drawn by the eternal pen.

4 His providence unfolds the book,
  And makes his counsels shine;
  Each opening leaf, and every stroke,
  Fulfils some deep design.

5 Here he exalts neglected worms
  To sceptres and a crown;
  And there the following page he turns,
  And treads the monarch down.

6 [Not Gabriel asks the reason why,
  Nor God the reason gives;
  Nor dares the favourite angel pry
  Between the folded leaves.]

7 My God, I would not long to see
  My fate with curious eyes;
  What gloomy lines are writ for me,
  Or what bright scenes may rise.

8 In thy fair book of life and grace,
  O may I find my name
  Recorded in some humble place,
  Beneath my Lord the Lamb.