|123||Psalm 123||7 7. 7 7|
|UNTO Thee I lift my eyes,
Thou that dwellest in the skies;
At Thy throne I meekly bow,
Thou canst save, and only Thou.
|2||As a servant marks his lord,
As a maid her mistress’ word,
So I watch and wait on Thee,
Till Thy mercy visit me.
|3||Let Thy face upon me shine,
Tell me, Lord, that Thou art mine;
Poor and lowly though I be,
I have all in having Thee.
|4||Here Thy children’s common lot
Is to be despised, forgot;
But with Thee to make it up,
Lord, I ask no better cup.
|Henry Francis Lyte, 1793-1847|