Thine, Lord, is wisdom, Thine alone;

Justice and truth before Thee stand;

Yet, nearer to Thy sacred throne,

Mercy withholds Thy lifted hand.

Each evening shows Thy tender love

Each rising morn Thy plenteous,

Thy waken’d wrath doth -slowly move,

Thy willing mercy flies apace.

To Thy benign indulgent care

Father, this light, this breath we owe

And all We have, and all we are,

From Thee, great Source of being, flow.

Parent of good, Thy bounteous hand,

Incessant blessing down distils,

And all in air, or sea, or land,

With plenteous food and gladness fills.

All things in Thee live, move, and are,

Thy pow’r infused doth all sustain;

Ev'n those Thy daily favours share

Who thankless spun Thy easy reign.

Thy sun Thou bidd'st his genial ray

Alike on all impartial pour;

To all, who hate or bless Thy sway,

Thou bidd’st descend the fruitful shower.

mfYet while at length who scorned Thy might

Shall feel Thee a consuming fire,

How sweet the joys, the crown how bright,

Of those Who to Thy love aspire!

Thrice Holy! Thine the kingdom is,

The pow’r omnipotent is Thine;

And when created nature dies,

Thy never-ceasing glories shine.