When all thy mercies, O my God!
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When all thy mercies, O my God!My rising soul surveys,Transported with the view, I'm lostIn wonder, love, and praise.
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Unnumbered comforts to my soulThy tender care bestowed,Before my infant heart discernedFrom whom those comforts flowed.
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Ten thousand thousand precious giftsMy daily thanks employ;Nor is the least a cheerful heart,That tastes those gifts with joy.
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O, how can words with equal warmthThe gratitude declareThat glows within my raptured heart?—But thou canst read it there.
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Through all eternity, to theeA joyful song I 'll raise:But O, eternity's too shortTo utter all thy praise!