1 While men grow bold in wicked ways,
And yet a God they own,
My heart within me often says,
"Their tho'ts believe there's none."

2 Their thoughts and ways at once declare,
(Whate'er their lips profess)
God hath no wrath for them to fear,
Nor will they seek his grace.

3 What strange self flat'ry blinds their eyes!
But there's a hast'ning hour,
When they shall see with sore surprise
The terrors of thy pow'r.

4 Thy justice shall maintain its throne,
Tho' mountains melt away;
Thy judgments are a world unknown,
A deep, unfathom'd sea.

5 Above the heav'n-created rounds,
Thy mercies, Lord, extend;
Thy truth out lives the narrow bounds
Where time and nature end.

6 Safety to man thy goodness brings,
Nor overlooks the beast;
Beneath the shadow of thy wings
Thy children choose to rest.

7 [From thee when creature-streams run low.
And mortal comforts die,
Perpetual springs of life shall flow,
And raise our pleasures high.

8 Tho' all created light decay,
And death close up our eyes,
Thy presence makes eternal day,
Where clouds can never rise.]