The Lord! How Tender Is His Love

The Lord! how ten­der is His love

His jus­tice how au­gust;

Hence all her fears my soul de­rives

There an­chors all her trust.

He show­ers the ma­nna from above

To feed the bar­ren waste;

Or points with death the fie­ry hail

And fa­mine waits the blast.

Crowns

realms

and worlds

His wrath in­censed

Are dust be­neath His tread:

He blights the fair

un­plumes the proud

And shakes the learn­èd head.

He bids dis­tress for­get to groan

The sick from ang­uish cease

In dun­geons spreads His heal­ing wing

And soft­ly whis­pers peace.

His ven­geance rides the rush­ing wind

Or tips the bolt with flame;

His good­ness breathes in ev­ery breeze

And warms in ev­ery beam.

Lord! grant that still with grate­ful heart

My years re­signed may run;

’Tis Thine to give

or to re­sume

And may Thy will be done!