1 My God, my King, thy various praise
shall fill the remnant of my days;
thy grace employ my humble tongue,
till death and glory raise the song.
2 The wings of ev'ry hour shall bear
some thankful tribute to thine ear.
And ev'ry setting sun shall see
new works of duty done for thee.
3 Thy truth and justice I'll proclaim;
thy bounty flows, an endless stream;
thy mercy swift; thine anger slow,
but dreadful to the stubborn foe.
4 Let distant times and nations raise
the long succession of thy praise;
and unborn ages make my song
the joy and labor of their tongue.
5 But who can speak thy wondrous deeds?
Thy greatness all our thoughts exceeds;
vast and unsearchable thy ways:
vast and immortal be thy praise!
|First Line:||My God, my King, thy various praise|
|Title:||My God, My King, Thy Various Praise|
|Author:||Isaac Watts (1719)|