My heart, Lord Jesus, is resign'd,
And fix'd to ev'ry point injoin'd
By thy divine decree;
I praise thee with my lips, the best
Of all my members, for they're blest
In magnifying thee.

Awake, and be thy strains renew'd,
Thou glory of my gratitude,
Awake, my harp, and play—
Awake, my lute—myself shall rise,
As soon as these uplifted eyes
Can catch a glance of day.

O Lord, with thankful voice and hand
Amongst the natives of the land
I will thy mercies blaze;
To strangers I will sing thy worth,
And make my progress through the earth,
To propagate thy praise.

That mercy which prevails in thee
Is greater than eternity,
Which nothing bounds or ends;
Thy truth illustrious and renown'd
Is from beneath the vast profound,
And o'er the heav'n ascends.

O God, arise, thyself exalt
Beyond the heav'n's stupendous vault
From whence thy glories flow,
Thy royal majesty assert,
And thy magnificence exert
O'er all the world below

That thy belov'd, howe'er dispers'd,
Their banishment may be revers'd
By thy paternal care;
And that they may be sav'd from harm,
Lift thou thy mighty stretcht-out arm,
And expedite my pray'r.

My joy in Christ shall never cease,
The Word which God has sent in peace
To canton Sechem out,
And measure Succoth with my reed,
That there I may recall and feed
The sons of sin and doubt.

All Gilead's incense shall be mine,
Manasses of the blessed line
Shall yet be more my own;
Ephraim, who from the standard fled,
Shall be the strengthner of my head,
And Judah grace my throne.

Lot's devious children shall return,
And for a purifying urn
E'en Moab shall be spar'd;
Proud Palestine I will subdue,
O'er Edom I will cast my shoe
With gospel peace prepar'd.

Who leads me up to yonder tow'rs,
Whose local strength and active power
Embattl'd troops deride;
Who spears against so grand a mark,
And on the ramparts sets our ark
Where Edom's dukes reside.

Shall it not be our watch and ward,
Can help be other than the Lord
To whom our pray'rs apply,
And wilt thou not our cause maintain,
And shall not in thy name again
Judea's streamers fly?

Lord, in the hour of doubt and chance
Thine efficacious aid advance,
Do thou direct our swords;
Our thoughts and deeds are of no price,
And vain the help and weak th' advice
That feeble man affords.

Through God our valour shall be proof
To make each adverse hand and hoof
Before our walls retreat,
With palm his champions he shall crown,
And finally beat Satan down
Beneath his servants feet.