MY spirit looks to God alone; My rock and refuge is His throne; In all my fears, in all my straits, My soul on His salvation waits.
Trust Him, His saints, in all His ways; Pour out your souls before His face; When helpers fail, and foes invade, God is our all-sufficient aid.
People of low or high degree Are both alike in vanity; Laid in the balance all appear Lighter than vapour in the air.
Make not increasing wealth your trust, Nor set your heart on earthly dust; Listen to God’s transcendent voice, And in His power and wealth rejoice.
His sovereign power reigns not alone, Grace is a partner of His throne: And pardoning grace with endless love Is our sublime reward above.
Isaac Watts, 1674-1748‡