Come, let us all, with fer­vor,
On whom Heav’n’s mer­cies shine,
To our su­preme pre­serv­er
In tune­ful prais­es join.
Another year is gone;
Of which the ten­der mer­cies
(Each pi­ous heart re­hears­es)
Demand a grate­ful song.

Tell o’er, with true de­vo­tion,
The won­ders of His grace:
Let no pol­lut­ing no­tion
Our gra­ti­tude de­face.
But still re­mem­ber well,
That this year’s re­no­va­tion
Renews our ob­li­ga­tion
To fight ’gainst sin and hell.

His grace is still pre­serv­ing
Our peace in church and state;
His love is ne­ver swerv­ing,
In spite of Sa­tan’s hate.
Dispensed with op­en hand,
His bless­ings on this na­tion
Still ward off de­so­la­tion,
And save a sin­ful land.

’Tis His etern­al kind­ness
That spares us from the rod.
Tho’ long our willful blindness
Has sore pro­voked our God
To pour His ven­geance down;
Yet still His grace pro­vides us,
And still His mer­cy hides us,
From His own dread­ful frown.

The source of all com­pass­ion
Pities our fee­ble frame
When, turn­ing from trans­gress­ion,
We come in Je­sus’ name
Before His ho­ly face;
Then ev­ery sin­ful mo­tion
Is cast in­to the ocean
Of ne­ver-fail­ing grace.

To Christ our peace is ow­ing:
Through Him Thou art ap­peased.
Through Him Thy love’s still flow­ing:
O! wilt Thou then be pleased,
Through Christ Thy grace to send,
In all its strength and beau­ty,
To keep us in our du­ty,
’Till these frail days shall end.