1 Almighty Author of our frame,
To thee our vital pow’rs belong;
Thy praise, (delightful, glorious theme!)
Demands our heart, our life, our tongue.

2 Our hearts, our lives, our tongues, are thine:
O be thy praise their best employ!
But may our songs with angels join,
Nor sacred awe forbid the joy!

3 Thy glories, the seraphick lyre,
On all its strings attempts in vain;
Then how shall mortals dare aspire,
In thought, to try th’ unequal strain?

4 Yet the Sov’reign of the skies
To mortals bends a gracious ear;
Nor the mean tribute will despise,
If offer’d with a heart sincere.

5 Great God, accept the humble praise,
And guide our heart, and guide our tongue,
While to thy name we trembling raise
The grateful, though unworthy, song.

Added by

Blessy Christlin


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