Lord of all worlds, let thanks and praise
To Thee for­ev­er fill my soul;
With bless­ings Thou hast crowned my days—
My heart, my head, my hand con­trol:
O, let no vain pre­sump­tions rise,
No im­pi­ous mur­mur in my heart,
To crave the boon Thy will de­nies,
Or shrink from ill Thy hands im­part.

Thy child am I, and not an hour,
Revolving in the orbs above,
But brings some to­ken of Thy pow­er,
But brings some to­ken of Thy love;
And shall this bo­som dare re­pine,
In dark­ness dare de­ny the dawn,
Or spurn the trea­sures of the mine,
Because one dia­mond is with­drawn?

The fool de­nies, the fool alone,
Thy be­ing, Lord, and bound­less might;
Denies the fir­ma­ment, Thy throne,
Denies the sun’s me­ri­di­an light;
Denies the fa­shion of his frame,
The voice he hears, the breath he draws;
O id­iot athe­ist! to pro­claim
Effects un­num­bered with­out cause!

Matter and mind, mys­ter­ious one,
Are man’s for three­score years and ten;
Where, ere the thread of life was spun?
Where, when re­duced to dust again?
All-see­ing God, the doubt sup­press;
The doubt Thou on­ly canst re­lieve;
My soul Thy Sav­ior Son shall bless,
Fly to Thy Gos­pel, and be­lieve.