For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.
Isaac Watts
Our God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come;
Be thou our guard while troubles last,
And our eternal home
Isaac Watts
Whatever brawls disturb the street
There should be peace at home.
Isaac Watts
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of Glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.
Isaac Watts
Salvation, O the joyful sound!
‘Tis pleasure to our ears;
A sov’reign balm for ev’ry wound,
A cordial for our fears.
Isaac Watts