Thy goodness, Lord, our souls confess
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Thy goodness, Lord, our souls confess,Thy goodness we adore;A spring whose blessings never fail,A sea without a shore.
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Sun, moon, and stars, thy love attestIn every cheerful ray;Love draws the curtain of the night,And love restores the day.
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Thy bounty every season crownsWith all the bliss it yields;With joyful clusters bend the vines,With harvests wave the fields.
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But chiefly thy compassions, Lord,Are in the gospel seen;There like the sun, thy mercies shineWithout a cloud between.