O Lord, Thy love's unbounded,
So sweet, so full, so free;
My soul is all transported
Whene'er I think on Thee.
Yet, Lord, alas, what weakness
Within myself I find:
No infant's changing pleasure
Is like my wandering mind.
And yet Thy love's unchanging,
And doth recall my heart
To joy in all its brightness
The peace its beams impart.
Yet sure, if in Thy presence
My soul still constant were,
Mine eye would, more familiar,
Its brighter glories bear.
And thus Thy deep perfections
Much better should I know,
And with adoring fervour
In this Thy nature grow.
Still sweet 'tis to discover,
If clouds have dimmed my sight,
When passed, eternal Lover,
Towards me, as e'er, Thou'rt bright.
O keep my soul, then, Jesus,
Abiding still with Thee;
And if I wander, teach me
Soon back to Thee to flee,
That all Thy gracious favour
May to my soul be known;
And, versed in this Thy goodness,
My hopes Thyself shalt crown.