1 Lord, we adore thee, and would fain express
Thy matchless goodness and our worthlessness;
Ashamed of self, we prostrate at thy door,
Confess our sin, and thy free grace implore.

2 Another year of our short life is gone,
And many are the wonders we have known;
Our path’s been strewed with blessings rich and rare,
Proceeding from thy special love and care.

3 Sometimes in solemn silence we have sat,
Then peevishly cried out, How hard’s our lot!
Each trial we have viewed with fretful eye,
And every mercy passed in silence by.

4 We’ve swelled our woes to an immense degree,
And often said, None are so tried as we;
God’s righteous ways our carnal hearts despise,
And often say they’re neither just nor wise.

5 Yet sovereign favours we have oft enjoyed;
To us the Holy Ghost has them applied;
Through God’s free goodness, mercies, rich and rare,
Have cheered our souls and vanquished every fear.

6 Christ, and him crucified, has been our song;
His unctuous love has tuned our hearts and tongue;
We’ve been abashed, our vileness have confessed,
And felt that God in blessing has us blessed.