Classic Poem

My great preserver, to thy gracious hand
My life, my safety, and my all I owe;
New gratitude thy favours still demand,
And still my numerous obligations grow.

Oft hast thou listen'd to my humble prayer,
Oft, at my cry, unwearied mercy came:
O be thy goodness, thy indulgent care,
My constant refuge, my delightful theme!

When warm'd with grateful love to thee my Lord
My thoughts begin to count thy favours o'er,
The boundless sum, what numbers can record?
How vain the attempt! astonish'd I adore!

Yet I may love thee, this is thy command,
Thy kind command, O make me all thy own!
My powers, my passions, Lord, are in thy hand,
And thou canst mould them for thy use alone.

This worthless heart, to thee I would resign,
Poor as it is, thy sovereign hand can raise
A monument to thee, enrich, refine,
And there inscribe thy mercies and thy praise.

Thy wonderous praise, not all creation's tongues
In one harmonious concert, can display;
Not the celestial choir's enraptur'd songs,
Through vast eternity's unbounded day.

And shall a reptile of the dust, aspire
To join with angels in their high employ?
Lord, at thy feet, I lay my trembling lyre
In silent awe, yet mix'd with humble joy.

Yet, if thou bid me try the heavenly theme,
And bless me with thy smile, my lyre again
On every string shall found thy glorious name,
Thy smile shall animate the feeble strain!

If thou accept, and aid my wish to praise,
Then shall my heart with glad devotion bring
(But ah, how mean thy gift!) her sweetest lays
To thee, my gracious God, my glorious King.

All I enjoy, and all I hope is thine,
Unworthiness, alone, belongs to me;
Inspire me, O my God, with love divine,
And make my life, a hymn of praise to thee.