
richard mitchley - hymn written sunday february 11th, 1798 by robert anderson lyrics
to thee what praises can i give
thou great creator, lord of all
whose goodness ’tis that man shall live
whose will it is that man shall fall
around where’er i cast mine eyes
they pleas’d behold thy works divine;
my daily wants thy hand supplies++
then, o! what praises, lord, are thine
whose heav’nly light the soul can cheer
when earthly sorrows on me press;
whose voice is to the sinner dear
and makes his pond’rous load seem less
since life, o lord, is but a span
and soon we mingle with the dust;
since thine’s the power, how blest is man
who in such goodness puts his trust
why doth weak mortals weep at fate
why murmur at thy holy will;
thy servant, whatsoe’er my state
teach me to be contended still
keep me from vice and all her train
who seem forgetful of thy word;
keep me from pride and grandeur vain
and may each hour be thine, o lord
forgive me if i chance to stray
and let me to thy path return;
there guide me in thy holy way
till life’s short taper cease to burn
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