CONSIDER all my troubles, Lord, And guardian blessings send; My soul for Thy deliverance faints, O bid my sorrows end.
Are not Thy mercies sovereign still, And Thou a faithful God? O grant me now a warmer zeal To run the heavenly road.
Does not my heart Thy precepts love, And long to see Thy face? And yet how slow my spirits move, Without enlivening grace!
Thy Word is everlasting Truth; How pure is every page! This book divine shall guide our youth, And richly bless our age.
Isaac Watts, 1674-1748