1 MY God, wheneâer my longing heart
The praiseful tribute would impart,
In vain my tongue with feeble aim,
Attempts the glories of thy name.
2 In vain my boldest thoughts arise,
I sink to earth and lose the skies;
Yet I may still thy grace implore,
And low in dust thy name adore.
3 0 let thy grace my heart inspire,
And raise each languid, weak desire ;
Thy grace, which condescends to meet
The sinner prostrate at thy feet.
4 With humble fear let love unite,
And mix devotion with delight;
Then shall thy name be all my joy,
Thy praise my constant, blest employ.
5 Thy name inspires the harps above
With harmony, and praise, and love ;
That grace which tunes thâ immortal strings,
Looks kindly down on mortal things.
6 0 let thy grace guide every song,
And fill my heart and tune my tongue ;
Then shall the strain harmonious flow,
And heavenâs sweet work begin below.
Anne Steele, Hymns, Psalms, and Poems