Praise for Thee, Lord, in Zi­on waits;
Prayer shall be­siege Thy tem­ple gates;
All flesh shall to Thy throne re­pair,
And find through Christ sal­va­tion there.

Our spir­its faint; our sins pre­vail:
Leave not our trem­bling hearts to fail.
O Thou that hear­est prayer, des­cend,
And still be found the sin­ner’s friend.

How blest Thy saints! how safe­ly led;
How surely kept, how rich­ly fed!
Savior of all in earth and sea,
How happy they who rest in Thee!

Thy hand sets fast the migh­ty hills,
Thy voice the trou­bled ocean stills;
Evening and morn­ing hymn Thy praise,
And earth Thou bou­nty wide dis­plays.

The year is with Thy goo­dness crowned,
Thy clouds drop wealth the world around;
Through Thee the de­serts laugh and sing,
And na­ture smiles and owns her king.

Lord, on our souls Thy in­flu­ence pour;
The mor­al waste with­in re­store;
O let Thy love our spring­tide be,
And make us all bear fruit to Thee.