Hymnal: The Christian Psalmist
Compiler: Silas W Leonard and A D Fillmore
Publisher/Printer: S W Leonard
First Line: When all thy mercies O my God
Topic: <no topic given>
Writer: <no first name given> <no last name given>
Hymn Number: 118
Page Number: 155, click to see hymnal pages
WHEN all thy mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise.
O how can words, with equal warmth,
The gratitude declare,
That glows within my ravished heart?
But thou canst read it there.
Thy providence my life sustained,
And all my wants redressed,
When, in a state of helplessness,
I hung upon the breast.
To all my weak complaints and cries,
Thy mercy lent an ear;
Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learned
To form themselves in prayer.
Unnumbered comforts on my soul,
Thy tender care bestowed;
Before my infant heart conceived
From whom those comforts flowed.
When in the slippery paths of youth.
With heedless steps I ran,
Thine arm, unseen, conveyed me safe,
And led me up to man.
Through hidden dangers, toils and deaths,
Thy goodness cleared my way;
And through the pleasing snares of vice,
More to be feared than they.
Ten thousand, thousand precious gifts
My daily thanks employ;
Nor is the least a cheerful heart
That tastes those gifts with joy.
Through every period of my life
Thy goodness I'll pursue;
And after death in distant worlds,
The pleasing theme renew.
Through all eternity to thee
A joyful song I'll raise;
But O! eternity's too short
To utter all thy praise.