1 Indulgent God! with pitying eyes
The sons of men survey.
Alas! how thoughtless mortals sport
In sin's destructive way!

2 Ten thousand dangers lurk around,
To bear them to the tomb:
Each passing hour may place them where,
Repentance cannot come.

3 Reclaim, O Lord! their wand'ring minds,
Amus'd with airy dreams;
That heav'nly wisdom may dispel
Their visionary schemes.

4 Guide and direct them by word,
Their dang'rous state to see;
That they may seek and find the path,
That leads to heav'n and thee.