When all thy mercies, O my God, my rising soul surveys, why, my cold heart, art thou not lost in wonder, love, and praise?
Thy providence my life sustained and all my wants redressed, when in the silent womb I lay, and hung upon the breast.
To all my weak complaints and cries thy mercy lent an ear, ere yet my feeble thoughts had learned to form themselves in prayer.
Unnumbered comforts to my soul thy tender care bestowed, before my infant heart conceived from whom those comforts flowed.
When in the slipp'ry paths of youth with heedless steps I ran, thine arm unseen conveyed me safe, and led me up to man.
Through hidden dangers, toils, and deaths, it gently cleared my way, and through the pleasing snares of vice, more to be feared than they.
Through ev'ry period of my life thy goodness I'll pursue; and after death in distant worlds the pleasing theme renew.
Through all eternity to thee a grateful song I'll raise; but oh! eternity's too short to utter all thy praise.