WHEN ALL YOUR MERCIES

When all Your mercies, O my God,

my rising soul surveys,

transported with the view, I‟m lost

in wonder, love, and praise.




Unnumbered comforts on my soul

Your tender care bestowed,

before my infant heart conceived

from whom those comforts flowed.




Ten thousand thousand precious gifts

my daily thanks employ,

nor is the least a cheerful heart

that tastes those gifts with joy.




Through every period of my life

Your goodness I‟ll pursue

and, after death, in distant worlds,

the glorious theme renew.




Through all eternity to You

a joyful song I‟ll raise;

for, oh, eternity‟s too short

to utter all Your praise!