1 Return, my soul, and seek thy rest
Upon thy heav’nly Father’s breast:
Indulge me, Lord, in that repose,
The soul which loves Thee only knows.

2 Lodged in Thine arms I fear no more
The tempest’s howl, the billows’ roar;
Those storms must shake th’Almighty’s seat,
Which violate the saints’ retreat.

3 Thy bounties, Lord, to me surmount
The power of language to recount;
From morning dawn, the setting sun
Sees but my work of praise begun.

4 The mercies, all my moments bring,
Ask an eternity to sing;
What thanks those mercies can suffice
Which thro’ eternity shall rise?

5 Rich in ten thousand gifts possessed,
In future hopes more richly blessed,
I’ll sit and sing, till death shall raise
A note of more proportioned praise.