Hear, Lord, the song of praise and pray­er,
In Heav’n Thy dwell­ing place,
From in­fants, made Thy con­stant care,
[originally, made the pub­lic care]
And taught to seek Thy face!

Thanks for Thy Word, and for Thy day,
And grant us, we im­plore,
Never to waste in sin­ful play,
Thy ho­ly Sab­baths more.

Thanks that we hear—but, Oh, im­part,
To each de­sires sin­cere,
That we may list­en with our heart,
And learn, as well as hear.

For if vain thoughts our minds en­gage,
Of el­der far than we:
What hope that at our heed­less age,
Our minds shall e’er be free?

Much hope, if Thou our spir­its take
Under Thy gra­cious sway,
Who canst the wis­est wis­er make
And babes as wise as they.

Wisdom and bliss Thy Word be­stows,
A sun that ne’er de­clines;
And be Thy mer­cies show­ered on those
Who placed us where it shines.