O LORD, accept my prayers, my vows, Earnest and sweet in morning hours, And let my nightly worship rise Fragrant as evening sacrifice.
Watch o’er my lips, and guard them, Lord, From every rash and heedless word, Nor let my heart incline to rove Into the sins that worldlings love.
O may the righteous, when I stray, See and reprove my wandering way; Their gentle words, like ointment shed, Shall only heal and cheer my head.
When I behold them pressed with grief, I’ll cry to Heav’n for their relief; And by my warm petitions prove, How much I prize their faithful love.
Isaac Watts, 1674-1748‡