New Year. Ps. 65. 11; 103. 4

W. Gadsby   10s

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.


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