I thought up­on the days of old,
The years de­part­ed long,
I held com­mun­ion with my heart,
By night re­called my song.

My heart in­quired with anx­ious care,
Will God for­ev­er spurn?
Shall we no more His fa­vor see?
Will mer­cy ne’er return?

Forever shall His pro­mise fail?
Has God for­got­ten grace?
Has He with­drawn His ten­der love,
In an­ger hid His face?

These doubts are my in­fir­mi­ty,
My thoughts at once re­ply;
I call back years of God’s right hand,
The years of God Most High.

I will com­me­mo­rate, O Lord,
Thy won­drous deeds of old,
And me­di­tate upon Thy works
Of pow­er and grace un­told.

O God, most ho­ly is Thy way,
Most per­fect, good and right;
Thou art the on­ly liv­ing God,
The God of won­drous might.