OH, precious Saviour! as I view
Thy wondrous acts of love towards me,
Thy mercies every morning new,
Thy grace unfathomed as the sea,
Lost in astonishment and praise
I fall adoring at Thy feet;
Feeble the worship I can raise,
Would that it were more loud and sweet!
Yet, Lord, as I the path recall
Which Thou halt marked for me below,
And see Thy love shine out in all
The way Thy hand hath made me go,
In spite of waywardness and sin,
O’erruling all my folly still,
Praise to Thine own great name to win,
With blessing rich my cup to fill.
Ne’er wearying in Thy matchless grace,
But from the “eater” forcing “meat;”
Making what seemed but deep disgrace
Yield blessing fresh, and new, and sweet;
Lord, at thy feet I can but fall;
Words may not utter love like Thine —
Oh, that I could Thy grace extol
Who deign’st to let me call Thee mine!
But, precious Saviour, louder praise
Shall rise from these poor lips of mine
When all the wonders of Thy grace
Revealed in Thine own light shall shine!
Deeper each day their depth I prove,
But when my latest need is o’er,
Unfathomed still that tide of love
Which then in glory I’ll adore!
H.C.R.