WHEN all Thy mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys, Transported with the view, I’m lost In wonder, love, and praise.
O how shall words, with ample warmth, The gratitude declare That glows within my thankful heart? But Thou canst read it there.
To all my weak complaints and cries Thy mercy lent an ear, Before my feeble thoughts had learned To form themselves in prayer.
Through hidden dangers, toils and deaths, That mercy cleared my way, And through the pleasing snares of vice, More to be feared than they.
When worn with sickness, oft hast Thou With health renewed my face; And, when in sins and sorrows sunk, Revived my soul with grace.
Through every period of my life Thy goodness I’ll pursue; And after death, in distant worlds, The glorious theme renew.
Through all eternity to Thee A joyful song I’ll raise: For O, eternity’s too short To utter all Thy praise.
Joseph Addison, 1672-1719